Icon
by ProfessorPedant
Summary: A Worm AltPower AU - What if Taylor had triggered with a power similar to Dauntless, but applied to her own body rather than her gear? How would the "Queen of Escalation" handle planning out and growing her powers? What sort of hero might she grow into? [On Hiatus]
1. Chapter 1

Icon v1

(A Worm AltPower AU)

"…the children, just shoot," Lung snarled. "Doesn't matter your aim, just shoot. You see one lying on the ground? Shoot the little bitch twice more to be sure. We give them no chances to be clever or lucky, understand?"

Lung had a deep, commanding voice that carried easily up to the roof from which I was listening. It was dark enough that I doubted either the gang members or their leader would spot my as long as I did not draw attention to myself. On the other hand, my enhanced senses enabled me to both see and hear them with no problems.

There were around twenty or twenty-five of them. All of them seemed to have some sort of weapon, including far too many guns.

They were Asian, some wearing hoodies, others wearing headbands or long-sleeved shirts, but all wore the same colors. Red and green. They were members from the local gang that left the tags 'Azn Bad Boys', ABB for short, all over the East end of the city. More than a few went to my school. As far as the criminal element in Brockton Bay went, they weren't small potatoes. While the typical gang members were just young men and a few women forcibly recruited from Brockton Bay's high schools and lower-class neighborhoods, their leadership were capes. And not just any capes.

Oni Lee was bad enough, a teleporting duplicator, or duplicating teleporter, who favored knives and hand grenades as his weapons of choice. But even with his rumored body count he was nothing on the leader of the gang. Lung, their top boss, had gone toe to toe with whole teams of heroes and had managed to keep himself out of jail. He was one of, if not the, strongest capes in the city. No one in her right mind wanted to face him by herself, especially when he had so many of his soldiers with him.

But I wasn't certain I had a choice. Not if they were going to kill kids.

I looked at him as he harangued his men into a killing frenzy. He was a little over six and a half feet, which put him head and shoulders above most of the gang members. He had an ornate metal mask over his face, and wasn't wearing a shirt, despite the chill. Sprawling tattoos over chiseled muscles covered his body from the neck down, all depicting dragons from Eastern mythology. A shiver passed though me as I felt his twin auras of animal charisma and raw power.

I levitated back silently, inches above the noisy gravel, and pulled out my new mobile. Dad had agreed to my carrying it, insisted on it, when I started going on my training patrols. I used the preset contact for the PRT hotline.

_PRT Hotline. What is your emergency? _

"Lung and twenty plus ABB gang members are gathering the parking lot behind the Duncan Building on Frasier. The bangers are all armed and Lung is ordering them to kill children. My name is Icon. I am a new hero. I am going to try to hold their attention while you get me some back up. Clear?"

_You should not attempt to approach Lung. Please wait for PRT and Protectorate forces. They should be on site in fifteen minutes. Again, under no circumstances should you approach Lung. _

"Under these circumstances, I don't think I have any other choice. Icon out!" I set the phone on a ventilation duct, pointed towards the parking lot and started the video recording. I did not hang up the call and hoped they would be able to trace the signal and maybe hear what was about to happen.

With a last swallow to try to moisten my suddenly dry mouth, I looked down at the crowd of enemies.

I had been both lucky and diligent in the past two months and had accumulated almost a hundred charges. This, along with my physical training to raise my base capabilities, had given me some real progress towards my goal. But I still wasn't Supergirl. I wasn't even close. With a half-ton weight limit, I was barely stronger than Captain America. Though I could fly and bounce small arms fire off my skin, which he couldn't. And I had my arc beam and taser touch. I even had two stored charges to boost those powers further before the fight began.

I knew even the armed gang members were no real danger to me, as long as I avoided getting dogpiled. I could stay out of their reach easily sniping at them, though that would remove my most effective attacks. It wasn't them I was worried about. It was Lung. I was in no way ready to face him.

Yet there he was. I sighed. This was going to suck.

I don't know whether he heard me or if he saw my movement out of the corner of his eye, but somehow, he knew I was there. He pointed at me and his men opened fire.

I grabbed one of my reserve charges and dropped it in to my resistant defenses. This supercharged both my general toughness and my environmental resistance. While he wasn't throwing fireballs yet, he would be soon. The extra defense helped me tank the fusillade of gunfire as I grabbed a dumpster and used it to plow through half the crowd. Mooks went flying or crashing into each other. I wanted to give out an appropriate quip, like Spiderman, but couldn't think of one. Nor did I think they would hear me over the general tumult.

I felt new charges pop into existence as the gang bangers went down. It always felt like I was playing one of those videogames Greg was always going on about.

Then Lung plowed into me.

It was worse than flying into a wall. I was slammed back and down, cutting a furrow in the asphalt of the parking lot. I shook it off and flew to my feet. I knew that Lung got stronger the longer a fight went on. I thought I might have a chance to take him down now, before he got more powerful.

I dropped the three charges I now had, one from my reserve and two new, into my power punch and pasted a right hook across Lung's chin. Energy surged from my fist to at least partially penetrate the steel mask and whatever other defenses he had. It sent him barreling backwards. I rushed to follow.

Three more pounding blows delivered at jackhammer speed and I thought the fight might be over. Then Lung exploded. Not metaphorically. He detonated in a blast of rolling fire that set his clothes, several pieces of litter, and one of his gang members alight.

The heat was too much. Pain washed over me. I could smell my black hair burning.

As I stumbled blindly backwards, I felt another charge pop. And almost as quickly, I felt the new charge drop into increasing my fire resistance. Sometimes my subconscious, or possibly my power itself, seemed to determine the best way to spend charges gained in the middle of fights. I occasionally wondered if a power could have a mind of its own. This time the choice, whoever made it, was the right one and I felt the pain in my skin recede.

Lung roared a challenge. He held out his hand to me, as he began to bounce on his toes, gesturing me forward. I suspected he was grinning behind his dragon mask. I glanced around. His men were retreating to the edge of the lot, putting distance between themselves and their fiery leader. It looked like no one wanted to meddle in their master's sport. It was a good way to get burned.

I tried surprising him with my arc blast. But the electro-kinetic bolt, especially at its default level, was too weak for him to notice.

He shook his head and rumbled "No! Fight me!"

"If you insist …" I charged in and we traded a half dozen blows, like fighters in a ring. He was getting bigger, and if I used my flight to maintain height parity, I lost power to my blows and blocks as I lost traction and could not use my full body's strength.

So, I set myself on the ground and kept pounding. Every charge that popped was automatically dropped into either defense or attack. The extra power from the first few charges expired after the normal three minutes, but new charges kept me in the game.

My defenses were increasing. My supercharged power punches were able to damage Lung even through his steel plates. And, as the fight progressed, I noticed a new power that was partially nullifying Lung's. He was regenerating more slowly. Even his growth rate seemed to decrease.

This did not mean I was winning, or even holding my own. Six minutes into the fight, the dragon was tossing me across the lot, slamming me into buildings, and stomping me into the mostly melted pavement. His men had all fled at this point as there was nowhere left unburnt, and the surrounding buildings were half-destroyed.

"You know, I can keep this up all night," I quipped as I pulled myself out of the viscous tar pit the asphalt had become. "Why don't we call it a draw and go bowling instead?" Mom's comics had demonstrated the importance of heroic humor during super battles.

Lung just looked at me with what I figured was draconic confusion.

I sighed and rocketed up in a parabolic arc, attempting to slam the dragon down into the sticky blacktop. He was becoming faster than me as well. He dodged and I managed to twist so that I rolled rather than slamming into the ground. He followed, kicking and stomping my recumbent form.

I punched his ankle. It snapped. By the time I had regained my feet, it had already healed. Whatever nullification power I had developed, it was also being overcome by Lung's continued evolution. I was still gaining the occasional new charge, but I was not growing as fast as him.

Ten minutes into the battle, there was not a building left standing in two blocks from the parking lot. Which was too bad, because I could have use somewhere to hide from the now twenty-foot-tall dragon. With every second Lung was growing stronger, faster, tougher, and more deadly. While I was starting to exhaust my last reserves. My charges were almost gone. My defenses were no longer able to withstand either his heat or his blows. All I could do now was try to stay out of his range, which meant my new power suppression field was could not slow his growth. I could not even fly away as he had his own wings and could take me in the air.

I was in a lot of trouble.

He lined up a flame blast. I dodged up. But he had anticipated that and used his wing to collapse the last standing wall of one of the buildings on top of me. The falling masonry and steel slammed me to the unforgiving ground.

Right at the dragon's feet.

Lung roared in victory as I worked to dig myself out from under the rubble. He looked down on me as he slowly raised his massive clawed forefoot. I was still to tangled to move away, so I braced myself, catching the descending limb. I struggled to hold it as Lung leaned into his attack. He made a bizarre chuffing sound that I finally realized was laughter. He was laughing as he tried to crush me under his foot.

Then Lung screamed. And leapt away. I turned to follow him and saw a man in dark blue body armor with silver highlights. There was a sharply angled v-shaped visor covering his eyes and nose. A well-trimmed beard lined his chin. And in his hand was his famous halberd. Armsmaster, the leader of the local Protectorate, had finally come.

Lung was looking at Armsmaster in what appeared to be astonishment, possibly that the lone hero would dare attack him, definitely that the tinker had managed to draw blood though the dragon's steely scales with that surprise attack. For a moment the two glared at each other.

I took advantage of that moment to slam a power punch into the side of the dragons nearest knee. I thought at even a momentary disabling might buy time for more of the Protectorate to arrive.

Lung tried to swat me away. I caught his foreleg and hung on, pounding at his joints as he tried to shake me off.

Armsmaster grasped the moment to lay in a series of shallow slashes. Just deep enough to slice through the scales, drawing blood. My accelerated cognition allowed me to notice he was leaving small injectors inside each open wound. These were left inside the dragon's body when the wounds healed over.

I continued to cling to the monster, letting go only to dodge fire blasts or direct physical attacks. I always alighted somewhere else on Lung. Very quickly the great beast started slowing down. A minute later he was shrinking. Two minutes after Armsmaster's first injection the ABB leader finally collapsed to the ground, unconscious and fully human.

The Protectorate hero quickly secured him with steel shackles, containment foam, and some sort of metal cage he retrieved from his motorcycle.

While he worked, I sat watching and recovering. My own regeneration was much slower than Lung's, but my cuts and burns had started to heal by the time I dropped completely out of supercharge. I conducted an internal inventory. My power let me keep exacting track of my powers and advancement.

_Let's see …_ I thought. _I started the fight at Brute 3, Mover 3, Striker 2, Thinker 2, Blaster 1, Changer 1, and Breaker 1. I used two saved charges and gained another fifteen during the fight. Now I have Brute 4, Striker 3, and a brand-new Trump 1. I'll have to look more into that one. It doesn't really fit with my planned Supergirl build, but it did save my bacon tonight._

"Icon, I presume?" Armsmaster asked from ten feet away. "Do you need any medical assistance? PRT is on the way."


	2. Chapter 2

1.2

I stared at Armsmaster like I was a cretin, my mouth hanging open and my eyes glazed over. Here was a real hero, one of my idols that did not come from my Mom's collection of Silver Age Comics. He wasn't Alexandria, my true idol, but he was here talking to me. I had just fought a real supervillain beside him.

What a difference three months make.

The first day back from winter vacation, my Nemeses Three had locked me into a potentially lethal toxic trap. What they claimed was a simple prank was in reality an attempt to murder me, carried out either with premeditation or through malicious neglect.

I hate to think of the event, in large part because I remember every detail. They left me stewing in my locker for hours. Eventually the trauma was enough to cause a break with reality that attracted the attention of an enormous eldritch entity. Sparks of energy rained from it onto our world. Its size and power was beyond my capability to comprehend. But it noticed me.

While my mind broke one of those alien sparks burst in my head into two dozen points of energy that entered my body. At the time I was so panicked I could not consciously control the charges. Instead my overwhelming subconscious need to _GET OUT!_ shaped the charges into enhanced strength and speed, durability, resistance to disease and toxins, and an ability to negate the durability of the metal locker and cinderblock walls as I battered through them with my bare hands.

I ran through the walls, out the back of the school, and into the cold night rain. The energy from the charges all wore off after approximately three minutes, leaving me panting as I huddled in an alley. The effects of the charges did not completely dissipate. Whereas I had been boosted to more than ten times my starting strength, with lesser but significant increases in my other attributes; after they supercharge had expired I was still boosted, just not as much. I also found out later that several of the charges had reshaped my brain, enhancing my memory and removing my need for sleep.

I'm not quite sure how I made my way home. I think the freezing rain and the toxic stench may have worked together to drive away any possible predators. However it happened I made my way to our empty house. Dad was working late again. And Mom …

So there was no one to see me crawl into my shower then fall unconscious onto my bed.

"Taylor! Are you going to school? It's really late." Dad sounded worried the next morning.

I barely prized my eyes open and offered a mumbled, "'m sick …"

"Alright. If you need to take a day, I'll let the office know."

" … n'kay."

When I did wake up that afternoon I found myself energized and completely refreshed. I also could sense a somehow familiar energy charge inside of me. I closed my eyes and could see it hovering over an array of other lights, each a different color and set in varied patterns.

When I saw the lights I fell into an immersive recollection of the trigger event. In panic, I lashed out, splintering my nightstand. That brought me out of the fright and I was able to go through the events of the previous day in detail.

Holy Shit! I was a cape!

When I closed my eyes and examined the internal array of my power I found I knew what each color and pattern meant, and how I could add to them with the unassigned charge. I also knew I could create a new pattern for a new power.

I wanted to fly! Once the charge was slotted, it flared and suddenly I floated off my bed until I bumped gently against the ceiling of my room.

It wasn't fast, but I was flying.

I tootled around my room at barely a walking pace. Three minutes later I crashed back onto my bed. I could see the charge was still there. It was just not powerful enough by itself to let me lift off. I would need to add more charges. The question was how would I get them?

I spent the rest of the day exploring the limits of my current abilities. I was definitely stronger, tougher, and had some sort of extra energy to my punch. But none of it was enough to allow me to survive going out on the streets to fight crime. If I wanted to be a hero I needed to get better, stronger, and smarter. And I _did_ want to be a Hero!

Dinner was a silent affair until I asked, "Dad, what ever happened to Mom's old comics? She used to read them with me. But I haven't seen them since …"

My mother was an English professor. She had done her dissertation on the impact of the super heroes of the Silver Age of Comics on shaping modern cape culture. Dad always joked that was just an excuse to let her increase and justify her childhood comic collection. I just knew that I loved reading them with her or at least near her as she graded student papers in her home office.

Those comics and their heroes like Batman, Superman, Spiderman, and Captain America were the center of my relationship with my Mom. But it was characters like Wonder Woman, Mary Marvel, Supergirl, Sue Storm, Phantom Lady, Black Canary, Marvel Girl, and the Scarlet Witch that showed me that girls could be heroes too. Alexandria was the real world hero, but in my childhood dreams she was mixed in with the others as role models. And none of the comic book heroes lost an eye to Siberian.

I wanted to look through them for ideas if I was going to be a real hero now.

"Her comics?" Dad pondered as he chewed. "I think they are locked up in the shed with some of her other stuff. Why?"

"I kinda wanted to look at them."

"Ok. I'll see if I can find the key."

"Thanks."

That night I found I never got sleepy. It proved a bit of a bother as I had too little to do, especially as I'd been alone in the house all day. Our computer no longer had internet connectivity, so I couldn't do any sort of research. The library, where I'd usually go was closed. And all my school books were ruined in the … I forced my mind out of reliving the horrors of that deathtrap. I tried planning out how to start my hero career, but I realized until I found out more about my powers there was nothing to plan.

Eventually, I just grabbed an old novel and read until it was time to get up. Dad was surprised at the prepared breakfast.

Sometime after midnight I noticed another charge pop into existence. Without thinking, I slotted it into flight, but after the three minute supercharge, it was still not enough to allow me to lift off.

I decided to wait a week and see how frequently new charges appeared, how much they added to an existing power, and if I could save them up. The supercharge time might prove useful in a tight situation. Having at least one charge in reserve could be a great tactical advantage. There was an old character called Hourman that was normal until he took his Miraclo pill which gave him super strength and durability which only lasted 60 minutes. My power lasted a lot shorter time, but still that might be a model I could use. It seemed better than Battery's charges that lasted only a single attack. Of course hers recharged in seconds rather than … days?

The next day at school I was too preoccupied thinking about my powers and possible hero career to pay any attention to the Nemeses Three. I don't think they knew what to do with my preoccupation. Or perhaps they were laying low after the attempted murder. Whatever reason, they left me to my planning for the rest of the week.

But, the following Monday they decided to restart their campaign with a bang…

"Icon? Miss!" Armsmaster repeated not sure how many times before I finally stopped woolgathering. "Did you receive a head injury? Perhaps I should inform the medics?"

"No," I replied. "I'm fine, or will be in a few hours. I was just … distracted."

"Alright." He cocked his head slightly, leading me to believe he was looking at me askance. "Do I understand correctly that you are Icon and you are a new hero?"

"That's correct. This is my first night out in costume and my first super battle."

"Not exactly the opponent I would have chosen for a first fight." He looked at me silently for a moment. "You seem a little old to have just gained your powers."

"What do you mean?" I asked nervously. I had purposely crafted my Icon form to look around twenty-three or so, as well as being taller, broader, and … more feminine. Her appearance was completely distinct from mine, with short blond hair and sky blue eyes. It had taken me almost ten charges to be able to change from Taylor to Icon quickly at will, and another ten to be able to manifest Icon's costume just as quickly. But the different face meant Icon did not wear a mask, and her apparent age meant I would not be shunted to the Wards.

"Most capes trigger when they're in their teens. That's one reason the Wards were created. Not that new adult capes don't appear occasionally. Just less common."

"Ah …" I said, not wanting to pursue particular that line of thought.

"You should also wear a mask," the armored hero lectured. "Keeping your identity secret is the only way to protect your loved ones and to maintain a normal life outside your cape activities. I have a spare domino in my saddle bag if you would like."

"That's not necessary. I have nothing to hide." I said, while wearing my false face.

He looked at me silently for almost a minute before continuing.

"It is hard, dangerous work being an independent hero," Armsmaster began what I suspected was a pre-prepared speech for just this sort of situation. "There is a regrettably high casualty rate among them, especially in the first few months. Have you given any consideration to joining the Protectorate?"

"I have considered it, am considering it still. But I want to get to know my powers a bit more first, as well as gaining enough experience to be useful to the team. I also have strong ties to the Brockton Bay community and thus cannot just transfer to any Protectorate team that might need a new member." I included that last bit to help shape later negotiations, I trick my Dad taught me.

"We can provide power-testing and training, even if you're not yet ready to commit to joining. You should come in and register."

"That sounds reasonable. I'll come in sometime this week. Should I go to the PRT Building or the Rig?" I'd visited the PRT Building on a school trip once, but had never been to the Rig. I was excited by the possibility.

"Registration is with the PRT. But power-testing and training happen at the Rig." He handed me a card. "Just make sure to let me know you are coming so I can prepare security for your arrival. Would hate to have them shooting at you as a threat." He smiled. I was not certain it was genuine, which surprised me somewhat. During my battles with the Nemeses Three I had dropped a few charges into building more mental cognizance of social behavior. I wasn't a lie detector, but was more sensitive to deceit.

At that point three PRT truck pulled up, Miss Militia stepped out of one. She approached us as the uniformed officers moved towards the bound villain. I realized Armsmaster had positioned himself such that he never had his eyes off of Lung while he was talking with me. A smart and cautious man. Worth noting for the future.

"Miss Militia, may I introduce Icon," Armsmaster made the introduction. At first I thought it unnecessary, who didn't know Miss Militia? Then I realized she didn't know me and blushed at my self-centeredness. "She's a new hero that managed to go toe-to-toe with Lung for almost ten minutes."

"Most impressive," the masked lady offered.

"Well, it wasn't like that, exactly," I stammered. "I couldn't really do much to hurt him. So I was just trying to keep him occupied in the same area until the real heroes could get here."

"Don't be too modest," Miss Militia chided. "Just surviving such a battle says good things about you. Might I ask what your power is?"

I paused and thought for a minute. There was no reason to keep it secret, especially as I was planning on joining their team eventually. "My power is sort of like Dauntless'. Except that I charge up myself where he charges his armor and weapons. Right now I have a small level of enhanced strength, speed, and durability. I can fly, albeit more slowly than a car drives, and I have limited energy attacks."

"And you can improve these abilities over time?" Armsmaster asked, his voice strained.

"Slowly, but yes," I agreed.

"Miss Militia, Please oversee Lung's transport. I have to return to the Rig. I'll see you there." With that the armored hero mounted his cycle and zoomed off.

"Was that a bit …?" I started.

"Abrupt?" the patriotic heroine completed. "He can seem that way at times. Usually it's because he's so busy with his numerous responsibilities."

"That must be it," I allowed uncertainly. I turned to a different matter. "Is there anything I need to do before I can go?"

"Have you given your official statement?" she asked, pulling out a tablet.

"No, but I'd be happy to do so."

It was almost 4 a.m. by the time I got home. I had landed in a copse of trees in a nearby park that I had found blocked all sightlines and had no cameras pointed its way. I had adopted it as one of my usual takeoff and landing points. Surrounded by evergreenery, I changed back to Taylor in my favorite dark track suit and jogged my way home.

I was surprised to find the light on and Dad sitting in his comphy chair, reading. "How did it go?" he asked.

He knew about my powers, had even played an important role helping me comb though Mom's collection to get ideas and lay out my power plan for the future. The time together had been good for us. I had not felt so close since before Mom died. He'd helped me deal with the school administration about the issues there. He'd been thrilled when I started jogging and working out to increase my baseline fitness and strength. Of course he was not as happy when I started going out on my training patrols a month ago.

By March I was actually powerful enough to be called a cape, but I was not fully ready. So I started jogging in more crime-prone areas like the Docks and near the Trainyard. Whenever I came across a violent crime in progress, I was able to step in and take down the gangsters without showing obvious powers. I did all this with Icon's face, though not in costume. That was when I confirmed that conflicts could earn me extra charges. Given that, I spent almost every night out harvesting. I made sure to carry a phone so I could call the police or ambulance as needed. I also started looking into first aid training. None of my powers included healing others. While I could choose to grow that direction, it would interfere with my main goal … Supergirl.

After a lot of time and discussion with my Dad, I had decided on her as my role model. "Why not Alexandria?" Dad had asked one evening. "She's real at least."

"That's part of the issue. She is real. The world already has an Alexandria. But she's not necessarily made the world a better place. I mean I know she fights Endbringers and bad guys and such. But if she is able to be a shining hope for the people of the world, she's already doing it. None of the heroes, except maybe Legend or Hero himself, come close to representing what the heroes in these comics represent to their people, or what they used to represent to the people in our world before Scion came."

"Your Mom's thesis?"

"Yeah. The world needs a symbol of peace and justice. An exemplar of the difference one persona can make. An icon. That is what she is," I say point to Supergirl. "And that is what I want to be."

"Taylor?" Dad repeated. I had to stop loosing myself in the past.

"Sorry," I said, offering him a hug. "It went … It was a lot more than I expected."

"What do you mean?"

So for the second time that night I told the tale of how I'd faced the dragon to save some children and met two of the city's greatest heroes. It wasn't a bad story.


	3. Chapter 3

1.3

School was school.

Winslow would never be a great school, but things had gotten much better since Blackwell had been fired.

Earlier I mentioned how Emma and Co. had decided to renew their attentions during the second week of January. I should mention first that after the original locker incident the whole school was shut down for a day. Apparently some cape had rampaged through the building tearing through doors, walls, and lockers. Lockers plural.

It seems that when I broke out of my deathtrap in a blind panic I managed to damage half a dozen nearby lockers as well as my own. I also broke at least two doors on my way out. They had to close the school to investigate and clean up. Rumor had it that no one was sure where the attack ad started or why it had happened.

When I came back the next day I, along with several others, was assigned a new locker in a different hallway. It meant a longer trudge to my homeroom, but got me out of the Trio's immediate vicinity. That may also have had something to do with their avoiding me the rest of that week.

That next Monday I opened my locker, only to have it explode in my face. _Someone_ had put a number of firecrackers or other small explosives in the space and had somehow rigged them to blow when I pulled the door. They had also filled the locker with shredded papers, which caught fire and sprayed out into the hall.

Screaming. Running. Pandemonium! And not twenty feet away stood Emma, Sophia, and Madison pointing, laughing, and recording with a phone. After my heart stopped pounding I just looked at them. As I stared, wondering what I had ever done to deserve such abuse from my best friend, a charge popped in my head.

I was shocked. This was the first time I had gained a charge outside of the nightly instances. I realized that anger or conflict or meeting some specific criterion could also generate charges. Before I could react, the charge dropped, infusing my thinking with such clarity and speed as I had never experienced.

I focused on the phone. If I could get access to one I could record their harassment, thus answering the Principal's insistence that there was no evidence of their bullying. I also realized that would not be enough.

The girls were not facing me alone. They had adult support in the form of coaches, teachers, and the school administrators protecting them. And Emma was using Mr. Barnes's status as an attorney to add additional threat from outside the school. If they were not working alone, I didn't have to face them alone. I could get adult support as well.

I smiled at my Nemeses Three as Mr. Harper dragged me to the Principal's office. It was unfortunate that the cognitive boost has mostly faded by the time Ms. Blackwell started reaming me for bringing dangerous explosives to school. When I denied having done so and pointed out she had no evidence that I had, she gave me a two day suspension and sent me home. Good to see such fair and consistent application of the rules.

I decided that I would make use of the two days. When I came back I'd be prepared.

"Dad, I need your help." We had just finished dinner.

"What's up, Little Owl?"

I hesitated, not certain where to start. If I started with my powers we might not get to anything else. But I needed him to know how serious the Trio's attacks had gotten.

"Taylor?"

"I'm being harassed and attacked at school. It's serious and has been going on for a long time. They almost killed me last week. I need help stopping them."

"Almost killed you!" He reached across the table to grab my hand. He was looking me over carefully for wounds I guessed. "What happened?"

"Three girls have been harassing me since I first got to Winslow – Sophia Hess, Madison Clements, and … Emma Barnes."

"Emma? But I thought she was your best friend."

"She was. Then something happened. I wish to god I knew what, but I don't. When we got to Winslow two years ago she had locked onto Sophia and they started bullying me on day one. Madison quickly joined them. But it has gotten so much more serious that bullying. They have attacked me socially, emotionally, academically, and physically hundreds of times. Last week, on the first day back from school they …" I shuddered and gagged. Tears were rolling down my cheeks.

"They what?"

"Somehow they filled my locker with toxic waste, let it fester over two weeks. On the first day back they locked me in and forced me to stew in the filth for I don't know how many hours. At least until after the end of the school day."

"Dear god. Didn't anyone get you out? What about the other students? The teachers?" He was up and pacing at this point. For a relatively small man he could certainly loom large in the room.

"They all know about the harassment. I've complained and reported to almost every teacher and administrator in the school. Multiple times. They always say there's no evidence. It's my word against the girls'. There's nothing they can do. This time, I've no idea if anyone even tried."

I stopped for a moment, remembering the first hour in the trap. "They laughed. I yelled for help to the people walking by. They just laughed. Some even smashed the door as they passed. No one helped. No one cared."

"What happened? How did you get out?"

"Something happened to me in there. I panicked and started trying to punch my way out. Suddenly I had powers. I punched through the steel lockers and the cinderblock wall and apparently though a few doors, maybe another wall or two, I don't really know. Eventually I was outside in the rain. It was dark and cold. I came home and went to bed."

"And you were sick the next morning."

"Yeah, sort of."

"Why tell me today? Why wait until now? Two years, Taylor." He sounded like I had kicked him.

"Because I was stupid," I started spitting the rest out, rapid fire as my mouth tried to keep up with my brain. I needed him to realize it wasn't because I didn't trust him or thought him a bad father.

"Because I thought I had to deal with it on my own. Today, after they put a bomb in my new locker … one that could have burned down the school … a bomb that I got suspended for, by the way … I realized they were getting all sorts of adult support … even from outside the school. I needed that same support. You were the first person I thought of. I need your help."

"You have it Taylor. You'll always have me." He gathered me into a hug.

I squeezed him. He grunted.

"What?" I said letting go and looking him over.

"You have gotten stronger."

"I'm sorry! Are you ok?" I leapt back and wrapped my arms around myself, not wanting to risk hurting him again.

"I'm fine. Just surprised. You feel as strong as one of my dockworkers."

"Probably. Maybe a bit stronger. About two or three times what I was two weeks ago. And I'm getting stronger." Then I got excited. "But that's not all. Look at this!"

I floated off the floor. Slowly. I stopped with my feet about level with the couch. Even after putting most of my charges for the week into flight that was all I could do. Float at a snail's pace.

"Taylor!"

I collapsed onto the couch. I couldn't sustain the floating for long either. After a few minutes of me demonstrating and discussing my very limited powers Dad and I got back to the troubles at school.

"You know Emma's Dad is a lawyer. I realized I needed a lawyer on my side as well. So I looked up New Hampshire Legal Assistance. They provide free or low cost legal services. They should be able to help us if Emma tries to sue."

"Honey, Alan Barnes is a divorce attorney. He can threaten to sue for defamation or whatever, but he'd likely have to bring in a specialist. And I know a few legal sharks myself. Legal Assistance is a good backup, but let me make a few calls first."

"I was thinking I've exhausted the avenues inside the school. At this point I think Blackwell is too invested in the Trio's innocence to be able to judge any evidence I might bring forward fairly."

"That make sense."

"Which leaves going outside the school."

"We can go legal, political, or public opinion," Dad said strongly. "A mix of all three is probably our best bet."

I looked at him, surprise obvious on my face. "Whoa!"

"You forget, I've been playing politics in this city for almost a decade. I know who to talk to and where at least some of the bodies are buried. Planning and carrying out a new campaign with you could even be fun." He showed a predatory grin.

I grinned back. "Sounds great! First thing, I need a smartphone …"

I went back to school on Wednesday. It was a pretty standard day. Madison led her minions in several rounds of oblique insults – where they said hateful things about me, but not to me, though I was obviously in earshot. Sophia tried to trip me down the stairs, but I managed to sidestep her kick. Oddly, that encounter earned me a charge. I dropped it into increasing my senses to better spot traps. Emma's sabotaging an art project gained no such reward. I complained to the art teacher, only be told not to blame others for my own failures.

What none of them knew is that Dad had gotten me a smartphone and a tiny hidden camera that was installed on my glasses. I was now recording all these interactions in audio and video.

This recording went on for another week. I made sure to include another visit to Ms. Blackwell's office to complain about the Trio stealing my English paper, throwing my lunch bag into the toilet, and hammering me with kettlebells in PE class (I let that happen, but got a charge out of it).

Again the Principal chastised me for making unsubstantiated accusations. I showed her my bruises and asked her to investigate, pointing out here were several witnesses, naming both students and teachers. She repeated her refusal, claiming she would not waste her or their time on the obvious lies of a known troublemaker. Then she threatened me with another suspensions if I did not stop harassing the Trio.

Dad really didn't like that recording, but his lawyer friend, Helen James, was all smiles. Almost as big as when I produced the three notebooks chronicling the months of harassment and attacks at Winslow. She loved a good record keeper.

The next Monday, after World Studies, my Nemeses Three and a half dozen of their minions closed in around me as I exited the classroom. They had me pinned into a corner as they started their performance.

"Nobody likes her. Nobody wants her here," Julia said.

"Such a loser. She didn't even turn in the major paper in English last Friday," Sophia responded.

"If she's not going to try, then why is she even coming to school?" Madison chimed in.

"Ugliest girl in our grade." Didn't even know this speaker's name.

They were barely thinking about what they were saying and a lot of the insults were wildly off the mark or contradictory. One would say I was a slut, for example, then another might say a guy would puke before he touched me. The point wasn't being witty, smart, or on target. It was more about delivering the feeling behind the words over and over, hammering it in. I endured quietly, recording all the while, until it seemed like they were running out of steam. I figured it was just a minute or two before they got bored and walked away.

It seemed Emma got the same impression, because she stepped forward. The group parted to give her room.

"What's the matter, Taylor?" Emma said, "You look upset."

Her words didn't seem to fit the situation. I had maintained my composure for however long they had been at it. What I'd been feeling was more a mixture of boredom and anticipation than anything else. "So upset you're going to cry yourself to sleep for a straight week?" she asked.

My heart pounded as I processed her words. Then I dropped the charge that had popped earlier in the confrontation into sharpening my thinking. I did not need grief, self-doubt, or depression getting in my way. "Really! You went there. You decided it would be a good idea to mock the fact that I wept in grief when MY MOTHER DIED!"

I stepped forward, radiating rage. Most of the minions stepped back to avoid my obvious anger. "Of course I cried for a week and more. What sort of monster are you that you _wouldn't_ cry if your mother died?"

"I …" Emma started. I cut her off.

"Oh! And you ladies should observe. This is how Mr. Barnes treats her best friend's secrets. She waits until she is done with you, then she blabs them when she thinks it will do the most damage. You should all be prepared for her to treat you the same in a few weeks or months. She is a fickle friend at best."

Sophia's glare snapped to Emma. I wondered what secrets she had shared.

I stepped forward again until I was almost touching my former friend. "I have let you get away with your shit for two years Emma. Partially because I had some hope for you eventually pulling your head out of your ass. But mostly because you and your little coterie of losers weren't worth the bother. But now this changes. From this point forward shit has consequences. Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone. Mess with me or mine again and you are all going down. You are warned."

I must have shocked them all as not one tried to stop me as I walked away.

I was almost pleased to find at the end of the school day that someone had managed to smash a bottle of India ink from the art room all over my secured locker. What books and papers I'd left in there were ruined. Now we could move forward with our plans without me breaking my promise of clemency if they behaved.

That evening Helen released our evidence packet to the school board, the local media, and the parents of all three girls. The parental packets came with both cease-and-desist and restraining orders. Someone, Mr. Barnes I figured, managed to keep most of the mess out of the media. But by the end of the February Emma, Sophia, and Madison had transferred and Blackwell was just gone.

While I would have preferred to transfer instead of them, I was just happy they could no longer hurt me.


	4. Chapter 4

1.4

One of the nice things about Brockton Bay high schools is that while they started at an ungodly hour in the morning, they let out relatively early. Officially this was to allow afterschool activities while it was still light in the winter. In April that did not matter much. I was not involved in any clubs or teams so I was home by 3 p.m. As I approached our house, I saw activity next door.

"Hey Taylor."

"Hey Lee. How's it going?" Lee grew up in the house next to ours, though he had moved out when I was seven or eight. He had often come back to visit his family before his parents past and his sister moved away to college. His father, old Dr. Jones, had been a professor at BBSU along with my grandfather and mother, though in different departments. I'd always liked him. He had two really cool things going for him. First was his real name – Leonidas Jones III. Second was that he worked for the PRT. I had never seen him in his battle rattle, but he often wore a PRT t-shirt that showed he certainly had the body to be an agent. Not that I'd noticed or anything.

"Doing alright. Anything exciting at work?"

"Lung got brought in last night."

"Wow! That is news. What does that mean for the ABB?" I had been wondering about that. Gang politics was not something I was really dialed in on. Some on PHO argued that Lung was necessary for the city's equilibrium, acting as a counter to the more numerous, but less individually powerful villains in the E88.

Not that they used those words. Being the daughter of an English professor had scarred me for life.

"That's a really good question." He smiled as he leaned against his PRT SUV. He had moved into the house full time after he and his wife separated. I figured having a marked PRT vehicle around was good for the neighborhood, sort of a passive police presence. "I think a lot of PRT braincases are wondering the same thing. I'm sure they'll work it out eventually."

"Is Nonie around?" Antigone Jones, Nonie for short, was Lee's nineteen year old sister. She had been my last regular babysitter before I outgrew the need. We still got along better than I did with any of the kids my own age.

"She might be around this weekend, if she's not babysitting."

"She still doing that? I thought she was looking for something else."

"She says she has one last regular customer she's trying to get rid of. The kid is really too old, Nonie says. But the father is way overprotective, so …"

"Can't you get her an internship at the PRT? That would be cool. I'd take one of those myself."

"Hoping to rub elbows with the Wards?" He paused for effect, looking me over. "There are a couple that might be worthy of you."

I blushed. He laughed. Maybe I didn't like him that well after all.

"Ah well … I gotta head in. I have a late shift tonight so I want to get some stuff done before I have to head back. You take care."

"You too," I replied. I needed to go to the PRT as well to register. Perhaps it was best to go while the one agent that actually knew me wasn't there. Just in case.

After putting my books down I changed in to my jogging suit, grabbed the pepper spray Dad insisted I carry. I was reminded that I also needed a new phone, as Icon's had been destroyed during the battle last night. I still had my civilian phone, so dropped that into my pocket and started out.

I chose a little used pedestrian underpass to change this time. Once outside I flew towards the PRT HQ. This was the first time I had flown during the day. My enhanced senses let me gauge people's reactions. There was a lot of pointing, some recording, and a few friendly waves. At roughly thirty-five mph max speed, I was easily slow enough to catch the various responses. With more than a little trepidation I landed at the PRT public entrance.

I walked forward in my caped red, white, blue, and gold costume. A smile plastered on my unmasked face, I stopped before the reception desk and said, "My name is Icon. I'd like to register as an independent hero please."

"Welcome to the PRT," The receptionist was a young man in a PRT non-combat uniform that looked like a suit with PRT insignia. I thought he was typing something on a hidden keyboard. "Senior Agent McCloud will be with you in just a moment. If you'd like to take a seat, I can get you some coffee, soda, or water."

"Water please. Thank you."

After five minutes or so a middle-aged woman in a utility uniform entered and called out my name. "Icon?"

I stood and she gestured for me to follow her into a corridor. She led me to a small interview room. I wondered how many cameras were on us, and where the containment foam jets were hidden. I forced myself not to look around too blatantly. She sat across from me and pressed a button. A screen appeared on the wall and a keyboard popped out of a slot in the table. "Why don't we start with some basic information?"

I will not bore you with the whole process. Needless to say it was highly bureaucratic, mixing boredom with a busybody prying into my private information. I had read up on the legal requirements for an individual to register with the PRT. They asked a lot more questions than I was required to answer. I simply offered the information I was willing to give up and politely declined to answer the other questions.

After the first pushback, McCloud refrained from badgering me. In the end, after more than two hours. I walked out with an official PRT ID card, an agreement to join in all hands evolutions, and a phone that let them contact me at need.

I was slightly concerned the phone would allow them to track my location and find my home. I discovered it was possible to open it and take the battery out, hopefully rendering it inoperable. I knew a tinker could have built in a second hidden battery or some other work around. But I decided not to fall into paranoia. They had given me no reason not to trust them, so I would extend that trust until proven mistaken.

I decided to skip dinner and patrol that evening. Showing the flag, so to speak. Dad was expecting my absence, so I didn't feel the need to contact him. Instead I started with the Boardwalk and made my way towards Downtown. I spent half the time on the ground and the rest flying. People were still wary of me, though I tried to act as approachable and friendly as appropriate.

It was well after dark before I spotted my first crime, a mugging. It looked like an office worker trying to get to his car in a now-deserted parking lot. Two thugs had him pressed up against his car, a knife to his face.

I landed behind the attackers and grabbed the backs of their necks, one in each hand. I pulled them away from the worker as I zapped them with my taser touch. It was basically the electrical aspect of my arcbalst without the kinetic component. Not too powerful, but just right for quickly rendering most normals unconscious.

I held them as the jerked then slowly lowered them to the ground. A quick search found two knives, a revolver, and several wallets. Only one of the wallets matched either of the muggers. I piled everything onto the pavement well away from the thugs, secured them with zip ties, then checked on the victim.

"Are you hurt? Is there anything I can do for you?"

He looked at me like I had pulled a gold bar out of my butt. Capes were not so common, even in the Bay, that meeting one wasn't an event for most people. Getting saved by one was perhaps even less common. His surprise was understandable, if regrettable.

"Sir?"

"I'm … I'm alright."

"I would ask that you stay long enough to give the police a statement. I'm calling them right now." And pulling my new official phone, I did so. It was exciting to say "This is the new hero Icon. I have two muggers ready for pick up in the parking lot at Eli and Harman."

No charges popped, but still a first arrest.

The next evening I had a slightly more noteworthy encounter. As I was patrolling near Medhall, I was stopped in mid-air by a floating ghost.

"What the …" It appeared to be a six foot tall suit of plate armor, including a full helmet, holing out its right hand in the classic "Stop" signal.

I stopped. Assuming this thing was not alone I began looking around. I saw there were three more ghostly knights sharing the sky nearby. Then a metal platform, upon which stood three costumed people, joined us in the air.

I had been studying the local capes online since determining to become a hero. It is always important to know the opposition. I thought it equally important to recognize other heroes lest I find myself in that most classic of comic tropes, the mistaken super brawl. These three were not heroes.

Empire Eighty-Eight was a neo-Nazi super gang of longstanding in the Bay. They could bring out more capes than all of the Brockton Bay Protectorate and Wards combined. Their non-powered forces also outnumbered the PRT and Police. It was not a pleasant state of affairs. Facing me were Krieg, the E88 second in command, accompanied by Crusader and Rune. Rune was a telekinetic of some strength. She could easily lift more than I could. All she had to do was touch it and it was under her control. Crusader manifested ghostly doubles that were said to be able to attack though almost any defense whilst being untouchable themselves, as well as being able to fly. No one agreed on what Krieg's powers were, other than they dealt with kinetic energy somehow. But no one though him a pushover.

Even more so than against Lung, I was not ready for this fight. My mind started thinking at full speed, looking for any tactic or combination of powers that might get me out of this. My arcblast might be my only hope, if I could boost it. Or boosting my flight speed and reaction time might let me escape, though I hated the idea of running. I wasn't going to be able to just bull my way through.

"Good evening. Have I the pleasure of addressing Icon?" Krieg said. His voice was pitched to carry and, despite his SS officer costume, he had a surprisingly pleasant American accent. I decided it was better to buy time by talking. Perhaps I'd luck out and some heroes would notice my situation.

"I'm Icon."

"Greetings. We are happy to make your acquaintance. Please allow me to introduce myself and my companions. I am Krieg, and this is Crusader and Rune. We are proud members of the Empire Eighty-Eight. And we are here to offer you a place in our ranks."

"What!"

I couldn't see it but I swear he smiled. I know Rune did.

"It is the mission of the E88 to protect our city, our nation, and our people. You helped with that two nights ago when you defeated the monster Lung. With him off the streets, good Americans can go about their day-to-day lives more safely."

"But Armsmaster …"

"Yes, he played a role. But it was your courage and strength that allowed him to accomplish what the Protectorate has never been able to accomplish before. Our leader, Kaiser, recognizes that strength and courage, even if the petty bureaucrats don't."

"You done good, girl!" Rune added with a thumbs up.

I didn't know what to think. These villains were complimenting me. Cheering me on. Then I realized they were cheering a white woman beating down an Asian man, even if that is not what happened. Thinking it through brought a bit of bile to my throat.

"So you want me to join you?" I asked in clarification.

"We'd like to offer you a place. Let you know that you do not have to be alone when the ragtag attack and the progressives decry your actions in defending yourself and your nation." Krieg swept his arms out to encompass the city and people on all sides. His voice throbbed with sincerity and power.

"No," I spoke flatly. "I find your beliefs anathema. I find your methods repugnant. I must reject your offer."

Now his tone softened, became almost intimate, drawing me in. "While we realize that you may not yet be ready to accept our offer, know that it is there. You do have a place with us. When the rest of the world rejects you and hunts you down, you are not alone."

"Think about it," Rune said, miming "call me" with her hand.

With a nod and a wave, they flew away. Crusader had never spoken or moved. But his ghosts were the last to leave.

Well that was weird.


	5. Chapter 5

1.5

People were getting a little weird at school. Ever since the Trio had left the social structure of the sophomore class had been in flux. Without Emma and Co. at the top, no one seemed to know who to follow. And with me being rumored as the one to not only get the Trio booted but doing in the Principal as well, no one knew I was still the school punching bag.

I had news for them. I wasn't. I demonstrated this when Julia, Emma's former top minion, decided she had inherited the throne, including her boot on my neck. I'll spare you the details but I wonder if she still cries about it. _Gloating is bad, Taylor. You're better than that._

This week the gang life at Winslow were stirred up. The ABB wannabes (wanABBes?) had been walking scared since the PRT's announcement of Lung's arrest. The Proto-Nazis and the Merchants-in-training were both throwing their weight around a bit more. Part of this gang pride had the E88's recruiting. As I really did not want to deal with another Nazi press gang, I elected to skip after lunch.

I decided that it would be a good idea for Icon to make an appearance during school hours, Just in case anyone was keeping track. Ten minutes before noon I ducked into an alley and made a quick change. As I patrolled in the sky I heard a scream followed by the sounds of squealing tires.

Below there was a grey Brockton Electric van following a running girl. Two men in electric company coveralls were moving towards her from two sides. This did not look good at all.

# # # # #

Dinah Alcott threw herself to the ground, rolling away from the grasping hands of the man from the grey van. Behind her she could hear her mother starting to say something. Then there was a strange pop and sizzle. Dinah saw her mother fall. The tween surged to her feet and started running.

Once Dinah cleared the building where her doctor's office was, she started towards what her power was telling her was her best chance of avoiding a terrible fate. She dodged the grab of another man dressed in the uniform of a Brockton Bay Electric worker. There were two of them chasing her on foot, while the van tried to close in inconspicuously. The men were carrying something, but she couldn't make out the details. She hoped they weren't guns.

She saw numbers flashing and changing before her eyes as she looked for the best way out.

_Chance of a positive long-term outcome?_

· _14.729% if she went into that coffee shop. _

· _12.373% if she went into that pharmacy._

· _8.935% if she stay on the street. _

· _67.003% if she turned left into that alley._

_Chance screaming will lead to a positive long-term outcome?_

· _83.387% _

_Chance fighting will lead to a positive long-term outcome?_

· _4.349% _

She turned left, letting out a scream for help. The alley led past several parked cars and into a loading area. There wasn't another way out, except through the building. The van speed up to block the entrance. The men started running towards her. Then a woman in red, white, blue, and gold dropped from the sky.

She landed in front of one of the men in grey. He bounced off her chest. She grabbed him and tossed him into the other pursuer. The impact knocked both men into the side of the building where the stuck for a second or two, then slowly crumpled into a pile on the pavement.

The cape looked at her hands for a moment, surprised or confused. Then the van started racing its engine, drawing her attention back to the fight. Dinah ducked behind a large metal something that loomed in one corner of the loading area.

_Chance that cape will rescue me?_

· _92.564% _

_Chance such a rescue will lead to a positive long-term outcome?_

· _61.267% _

The driver slammed on the accelerator, aiming the massive grill at the cape. She lifted off and flew through the windshield, shattering the glass. The van swerved into a parked car. Inside she saw flashes and heard shouts, followed by the sound and lights of automatic gunfire. It was so loud. She covered my ears. She wanted to shut her eyes and pretend it wasn't happening, but she had to see what was happening more.

There were more sounds of struggle inside the van then the side door popped off like a cork, flying halfway across the lot. The woman rolled out, landing sprawled on the pavement. Dinah could see blood staining her costume. The woman lay still. Two men in military outfits, complete with army guns and helmets stepped out, keeping their machine guns pointed at her. One held a hand to his ear like we as talking into a headset.

He must have gotten his orders. He motioned two the second man then started looking around the alley. _Looking for me,_ Dinah realized right as he spotted her. _Crap!_

Before Dinah could move, the woman on the ground jerked up and what looked like lightning arced from her hands to the two soldiers. It knocked them back into the side of the van and held them there. They were shaking like that epileptic kid in my class last year. After a three seconds, she shut off the current and the soldiers dropped.

Moving almost too fast for me to follow she flew to her feet, checked the pulse on the two soldier, while bending their guns. Then she checked on someone in the van, more than one because I could see her check the driver afterwards. Finally she came over to the girl.

"Hi. I'm here to help. Are you ok?"

# # # # #

Man! That sucked. I thought I was bullet proof.

When I saw the guys chasing the girl I first thought of grabbing the girl and flying away. The problem I saw was that if they had guns and shot at us, I might not be able to protect the girl. I wished I had a Kryptonian cape that I could wrap around her, but that wasn't real. Nor was I fast enough to zoom in and out before the guys on the ground, or whoever was in the van, could react. So carrying her away was out. That meant facing the bad guys directly and taking them out before they could fire.

I had one charge in reserve. I decided I needed speed more than anything so dropped it in my enhanced reflexes, to make me almost five times normal human reaction speed. Taking the first two out was easy, though I had forgotten my strength had increased significantly during the Lung fight. I may have thrown the guy too hard.

When the van started at me, I almost planted myself to take the blow. That always looks so cool in the movies. But I realized I was probably not tough enough for that yet. So I went through the window.

Took out the driver with a taser touch before he could react. Only to find three heavily armed and armored men pointing really big fucking guns at me. My reflexes may be five time that of a normal human. These guys weren't even close to normal.

They opened fire before I figured out my move. Spewing really big bullets, that must have been armor piercing at some godawful number of rounds per minute, those were not guns I could ignore. I managed to tag one with a flailing arm, smashing his helmet against the metal cage that took up half the interior. But the others kept firing.

It hurt. It really hurt. I was punctured and bleeding and stuck in a metal box. I had to get out! I slammed the side door off its hinges, only to stumble out semi-conscious as another three rounds slammed against the side of my head.

As I lay in the dirt I felt a charge pop and drop, then another. Suddenly my regeneration kicked into overdrive. I could feel the rounds push out of my body and the wounds closing over. I listened as the two thugs cautiously approached me as they reported to someone. Just before they reached me I opened up with two arc-blasts. Knowing these guys were armored, I maintained the blast. The kinetic portion kept them pinned against the van while the electric portion fried their synapses. I released after a few seconds. They were down, as were the other two in the van.

Looking more closely, I could see this vehicle was specially customized for abduction. Some of the implements I saw were nauseating. I went to secure the bad guys and check on the girl. I even used their own zip-ties, because I wasn't sure I had enough.

The kid had been smart and hunkered down behind a metal barrier.

I approached her openly, with a smile on my face. "Hi. I'm here to help. Are you ok?"

# # # # #

_Damn!_ Thomas Calvert cursed. _How the hell did this happen?_

The two simultaneous operations planned for that day had taken weeks of painstaking preparation and intelligence gathering. He had even managed to arrange a special invitation for the Protectorate ENE to deliver a keynote panel at the Mid Atlantic Urban Security Conference. That got Armsmaster, Miss Militia, and Velocity out of town. Arranging for Assault and Battery to take a day of personal time at Wentworth by the Sea had been comparatively easy; leaving Dauntless and Triumph alone to cover the Console and patrol the city. Arranging for them to be off duty until the busier evening to late night shift had only taken a word during one of Emily's near nightly online bitch sessions.

That left the Wards to respond to the Undersiders at Brockton Central Bank and no one to interfere with the true priority – acquiring the permanent precognitive services of little Miss Alcott.

_But it wouldn't be Brockton Bay if someone did not come along to piss in my coffee._ _Now what do I do?_ Calvert stewed. _The Undersiders have succeeded in both embarrassing the PRT by defeating the Wards and damaging the city's economy by clearing out the bank vault. While the cash deposits may be insured, the deposit box contents are not. As an additional bonus I got to see how Trainwreck integrated with the others and dear Tattletale managed to cause psychological damage to the youngest New Wave members. More chaos that can only benefit me in the long run._

_But the snatch team failed. I should drop this timeline,_ he equivocated. _But damn it, I don't want to! If I drop this timeline in favor of the "no go" line, I'll lose all the Undersiders' successes as well as all the planning and arrangements it took to make this happen. I think I can risk one more effort to make this right._

Calvert looked from the computer screens, showing video feeds of both the Undersiders and the snatch team, to the analogue clock he preferred on the wall, to the phone on the desk next to him. He knew what he should do.

He had reached his current level of success because of his patience and prudent decision-making. He never lost, because he never let a defeat remain in existence. But despite his power, he could not turn back time. He could only move forward from here, if with more options than lesser men.

With a mental huff he released timeline A, the "no go" safety timeline, and split the current B line.

In the new timeline, designated B.2, he called his first back up team. "Prep Bravo Team. Your target is Asset Delta. I will call back with location in a moment. Be aware there is cape interference, unknown cape. Dangerous, but vulnerable to AP rounds. Capture if possible, eliminate if not."

He listened to pickups from the van. They were sensitive enough to pick up the cape talking to Dinah.

"We need to get you to a police station. Central Station is just a mile or so away. Would you like to fly there?" The unknown cape had a nauseatingly saccharine voice, Calvert noted. He watched them take off a moment later.

"Targets en route by air to BBPD Central. This will be a high risk snatch. You are authorized the use of excessive force. Do not put Asset Delta at risk. You have four minutes."

In the both timelines Calvert ordered cleanup team to sanitize the original attack sight. _No need to leave any unanticipated evidence._

In timeline B.2 Calvert watched a hacked security cam feed as the unknown cape landed with Dinah in front of the station. She was smart and landed across Newcastle Street from the main doors so the officers would not panic. Unfortunately for her, that was a perfect position for Bravo Team to pull in between her and her destination.

As the men dismounted from the two SUVs, the cape grabbed Dinah and took off upwards. "Don't Shoot!" Calvert yelled into his headset. "Do not risk the asset."

He was surprised that rather than just flying away, the cape blew out a third floor window with an energy blast and flew into the building. Before he could decide how to direct his men, the cape came back out, _sans_ Dinah.

"Squad one, engage the cape. Squad two, enter the building and recover the asset. She is on the third floor. Truck teams, hold off the police." Calvert ordered calmly. This was not his first battle.

As his men poured out of the armored vehicles, the cape dropped to the ground in the rear vehicles blind spot. She reached under the SUV and with a shout, tipped it onto its side, trapping the driver and roof gunner. The first squad opened fire, but she moved behind the overturned vehicle. She repeated the feat on the second SUV, leaving the teams stranded and at the mercy of the police. While the dismounted men worked together to make a fighting retreat, Calvert quickly saw that between the hero and the police, they had little chance of success.

Just as the police were surrounding the overturned SUV's Calvert activated the self-destruct charges in both vehicles and enjoyed the sight of a dozen BBPD and his own men, that had so grossly failed their mission, be consumed in the explosion.

He then dropped timeline B.2.

Calvert split timeline B.1, creating timeline B.3, where he activated Bravo Team again, willing to make one more try if an opportunity arose.

In both timelines he watched as the hero and Dinah got into a police SUV. The driver, Unit 1820, radioed the dispatcher, confirming their destination of the PRT. The dispatcher informed 1820 that the Alcott's and the Mayor were en route to the PRT.

Calvert gave Bravo Team orders he almost knew would be suicidal. But at this point he did not care.

The battle in front of the PRT was even worse than he anticipated. The new hero worked well with Dauntless and Triumph. The PRT forces backed them up efficiently. In the end Dinah was secured by the PRT and Bravo Team was captured.

Calvert could not consign timeline B.3 to the dustbin of alternity fast enough. He didn't even bother blowing up his toys. He went straight to pouting.

_I should have given up the Undersiders' victory and gone with the safety timeline. Stupid, stupid mistake!_ He chided himself. _Somehow this is all that new heroes fault. I am going to find out everything there is to know about her. Then I am going to tear her world down around her ears._ _She will rue the day!_

# # # # #

"Are you sure you are going to be okay?" I asked Dinah. She was such a cute kid. Smart and serious. And she knew her power was going to cause her problems. I wish there was more I could do for her. I just wasn't sure what. I'd have to talk with Dad. He had turned out to be way smarter and more helpful that I ever would have thought.

"Other than this massive headache, I should be ok for now. 81.495% for a safe medium term outcome. 97.251% some major danger is going to strike the city in less than two months. So there's that," Dinah replied in a pained tone.

"We'll have to look into that," Triumph said. His voice was like hot liquid … yeah, not going to finish that. He had a nice voice. He looked at Dinah with real affection in his smile. "In the meanwhile, her parents are here and they're ready to take her home. The Mayor has agreed to work with Director Piggott to arrange mixed BBPD and PRT security until something more permanent can be arranged."

"Does that mean Dinah joining the Wards?" I asked. Her power would certainly be useful, enough so that anyone that knew about it was likely to want her in their pocket. The Wards might be her safest bet.

"That's still under discussion." I looked up at the familiar voice. It was the Mayor, Dinah's uncle. "I wanted to thank you again, Icon. Your help has been invaluable. We could not have borne losing our precious Dinah-bird. You are a valuable addition to the City. Thank you."

He shook my hand. And like magic flashbulbs flashed and cameras clicked. He smiled. I smiled. Dinah hid.

I told you she was a smart girl.


	6. Chapter 6

1.X Interlude 1

"What can you tell me about this new cape, Icon?" Director Piggott asked. "I've read your reports. People in the area managed to record three different videos of at least part of the encounter and have already posted them on PHO. So I've seen her in action. I want to get your gut feelings."

Armsmaster, Miss Militia, and Dauntless were in her office for a quick debrief. The Director had allowed the heroes who had responded to that mornings emergency eight hours for sleep and drafting their reports. Dauntless was brought in because of the possible link with his powers. Now they shared a working lunch.

"She demonstrates a surprising number of different powers, though none of them seem particularly strong. Slow flight. Limited enhanced strength and speed. Low powered blasts. Slightly increased durability and regeneration. It looks like a lucky grab bag distribution." Armsmaster's flat tone highlighted his unexplained unhappiness with the new cape.

"Low powered or not, she managed to hold her own against Lung for more than ten minutes. An accomplishment I am not certain many of our team could match," Miss Militia argued. "And she did not run when Armsmaster arrived, but stayed to assist in Lung's eventual capture. If her powers are similar to Dauntless' then she will only grow more powerful over time, possibly more versatile as well. Are you sure you don't have a sister Lee?" The last was said with a smile.

"I do have a sister, but I'm sure this isn't her," Dauntless replied, looking at the photograph of the young, blond heroine displayed on the monitor. "I don't have a daughter or cousin or anything like that. And she's definitely not my ex-wife. So she's not related to me. I wonder if she is related to someone in New Wave. Was it possible Fleur or Lightstar might have an unknown relative?"

"I doubt either the Pelhams or Dallons have been hiding another daughter for twenty years," the Director scoffed. "Though it's possible that she's somehow tied to Fleur's family. They moved from the Bay after her death."

"How likely is it that her powers will grow over time, like yours do?" Miss Militia asked.

"No way to say. But is there particular reason not to believe her? You said she was pretty open about her power. And it will become obvious with observation. You said she agreed to power testing?"

"I wonder at her age. Is she a recent trigger or has she been around for a while elsewhere and just rebranded?" Armsmaster said.

"You reported that she agreed to register and be tested," the Director responded. "We should find out more then. If she is like Dauntless then there may be no limit to her eventual power. We may be talking about a new Alexandria or even Eidolon. That would be a disaster if she became a threat. I want to know more about her and I want her under our control."

"Would you like me to take her registration interview?" Miss Militia asked?

"No," the Director replied. "That's a PRT function, and might look suspicious if a Protectorate member was involved. But if she does go to the Rig for power testing, I want Dauntless to run the tests." She tuned to address the hero directly. "I want you to see if you can find out more about her base power, these charges that she is talking about. See how similar or different they are to yours. And see how much change there may be from her observed abilities during the fight with Lung. Armsmaster, I would like you to make a detailed analysis of her power levels available to both myself and Dauntless by tomorrow noon at the latest. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll make it a priority."

"From your initial impression would you say she is a potential recruit?" Director Piggott asked.

"She said she's interested and is considering joining us," Armsmaster answered. "But she's not willing to accept reassignment out of Brockton Bay."

"I think I can argue for an addition to our complement," the Director said. "But having three heroes with close ties to the city may become problematic. It might mean eventually transferring someone without such ties to another team." She made a note then continued. "So how do we get her to sign?"

The three heroes looked at each other, or rather both men looked at Miss Militia. She sighed and offered "I think we will need to get to know her a bit better, and let her get to know us, before we can make the best approach."

"Alright." the Director said. The three heroes started rising from their seats. "One other thing. We have spoken of the reports of both Sentinel and the possible new insect controller that has been rumored for the past few weeks. Is there any reason to think there may be a connection between either or both of these two and Icon?"

"There have been Sentinel sightings for since last August. While we have not been able to arrange to encounter him, he is becoming a known factor." Armsmaster displayed a series of photos on the wall monitor. They showed a muscular man in a formfitting body suit that covered everything, including his face and head, in a shimmering silver material. He almost looked like a life-sized Oscar statue, made of silver rather than gold. There were several short clips of him performing rescue operations, lifting debris and moving damaged vehicles. There were also several shots of him standing on rooftops looking over the city.

"He appears mysteriously either standing watch over the city or responding to emergencies," Dauntless continued. "Then he disappears, sometimes literally vanishing in front of several witnesses, when the authorities approach. The odd thing is there are no reports of him fighting crime or engaging with any cape."

"And he never talks," Miss Militia added. She smiled because the mystery man was a favorite topic among the team. This cape managed to fascinate other capes. "It was the news media that gave him his name."

"I have some ideas in the works to help me track him down," Armsmaster said. "But in answer to your question I saw nothing to make me think there might be a connection with Icon. New capes appear with some regularity, as you know. Browbeat is a good example."

"Thank you," the Director said coldly. "I am aware of that. I was curious because Sentinel has demonstrated strength similar to Icon's. Though, as you rightly point out vis-a-vis Browbeat, strength is not an uncommon power. As for this rumored Swarm character, is it possible that Icon has hidden insect control abilities along with her others? Is there a limit to the sorts of powers she can charge? I just don't want us overlooking possibilities."

"I'll try to find out more if she comes in for power testing," Dauntless agreed.

"Thank you. Dismissed."

Director Piggott watched the three capes file out of her office. She pulled up her encrypted notes and jotted down her observations on them in their files. The antipathy Armsmaster continued to show Dauntless was once more evident. Piggott added a reminder to watch field reports for signs that this issue was impacting combat effectiveness or public perceptions. She also noted the signs that the antipathy might spread to Icon, confirming that it was based in part on envy for their abilities to improve their powers without the effort he had to put into improving his armor.

She determined to begin putting Dauntless, one of the aforementioned local heroes with strong ties to the city, in more leadership roles to help prepare him for possibly replacing Armsmaster in the future. Miss Militia, she noted, continued to demonstrate the ability to mediate between the two men. She would make a good team leader whether here or in another city. Before closing out her personal notes, Piggott pondered if this Icon might be a potential foil for Dauntless should he ever turn on the PRT as his powers increased. Or he as a counter for her, should she prove dangerous down the line.

She hated relying on capes to stop other capes, but sometimes that was all she had to work with.


	7. Chapter 7

2.1

"Um … did Mrs. Baylor mention the Florentine sculpture exhibition at the Belmont in your class?"

I looked up from my lunch, not recognizing the voice. It was slightly accented and belonged to a South Asian boy in some of my classes. I thought his name was Arun something. He was standing at the end of the table looking nervously at me. I looked back, nonplussed.

He looked away, first to the lunch line on the left, then to the bulk of the cafeteria on the right. Finally he look back at me. I could see him swallow something. "She mentioned it in our class and I thought she might have mentioned it in yours."

"Uh … yeah I think she said something about it," I allowed. "I didn't really pay attention. That's not the kind of art that interests me."

"Oh …" He swallowed again, looked around again, and then said. "Ok."

After that he rushed away, almost running. I watched as he hurried out the door, a look of utter perplexity on my face.

"You do realize he was trying to ask you out, right?" Another voice intruded. Again I turned. This was a girl, my age with badly dyed-blue hair and glasses. At least I knew her name, Kay Belcher. We had gone to middle school together. She was the only other person seated at my table, though I had not noticed her sit.

"What?" came my witty reply.

"Arun likes you. He told me he wanted to ask you to the museum. I give him points for both the semi-original date idea and for manning up enough to actually talk to you. He's likely to cop shit from the Nazis for that." She scooted closer and spoke more quietly. "The least you could have done was acknowledge him, even if you didn't want to go out with him."

"He likes me?" I was stuck on this. No one liked me. "I don't believe you. If he liked me, he would have said something when the bitches were tormenting me. He never stood up for me."

"No, he didn't. Did you ever stand up for him? Bruno Beck has been riding him for just as long as they were on your case. Did you even know that? Herr Bruno and his cronies may not have locked Arun in his locker, but they have hurt in him a hundred other ways. They still do, even with the new Principal. They're just smarter about it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Taylor, you were not the only target at this school. You weren't even Barnes' only target. She and Hess terrorized half the sophomore class, including me."

"They did?"

"Admittedly, you probably got the worst of it. You seemed to attract all the bad ones at once. But each of the mean girls and bully boys have their favorites. It's true no one helped you. No one does anything because they are either too busy getting bullied themselves, like you were, or too afraid to stick their head up and get noticed by the bullies. You managed to get your tormentors kicked out. But once you were safe you went back into your own little world. Are you blaming Arun for trying to survive in his world?"

"That's not what I said."

"Maybe not, but ask yourself are you still blaming him, us, the other victims? Or are you blaming the people hurting and harassing us?"

Kay scooted closer. "You were bullied and worse. Then you somehow beat your bullies and banished them from the school. But even with them gone you walk around like you're not here. You haven't done anything to join the rest of the school. I kinda wish I could ignore the world like that, but I'm still stuck in this little slice of Hell. And so is Arun."

"I …" I had no idea what to say. Could I have been that blind, that self-centered? I was supposed to be a hero. Have I been missing pain and suffering all around me? Ignoring it? "I gotta go."

"Ok." She shook her head and gestured towards the door. Not the one Arun had gone out, I noticed. "We'll still be here."

I gathered my stuff and walked away.

I wanted to ditch the rest of the day, but realized that I was fast becoming a truant with the number of times I was cutting class. Did I really want to be a delinquent? Did I only enforce laws or follow rules when I was in costume? Did I only help people as Icon?

I realized I had separated Winslow from the real world in my mind. What happened here had no bearing out there. Therefore what happened here was not real, including the other people. They were all just backdrop for the Emma and Taylor show. _God! How pathetic._

I made my way to my next class early and waited outside the door. I watched as the other students went by in the halls. In ten minutes I could see Kay was right. There were a lot of kids getting picked on. Even more were just trying to get by. It wasn't all gang related. Intellectually I had always known there were numerous cliques and social groups, and the interacted with each other. But I had never realized it wasn't an academic discussion of sociology with my Mom and Dr. Jones. These were real people. Each was the center of their own universe and someone as far removed as me meant as little to them as … they had meant to me.

Shit … All it takes for evil to flourish, is for good men to do nothing. And I hadn't done shit.

Not quite sure what this meant for me. One of the reasons Superman maintained his Clark Kent identity, if I remember from Mom's comics, was that he did not want to lose touch with his fellow man. He did not want to become a god on Olympus. Was that what I was doing as Icon? Was I spending so much time as the hero I was neglecting being a person first?

When was the last time I had dinner with Dad, or watched a movie on TV?

I decided to give him a call. Maybe we could do something together tonight. I could always go out after he'd gone to sleep.

"Kay?" I approached her after our last class.

The blue haired girl smiled at me. "Taylor? Sorry I came down on you so hard earlier."

"Yeah, no problem. Got a minute?" I had no idea if she had afterschool activities. As Kay and I talked, I saw Julia closing in. When she noticed me she glared then walked away.

"Ok. You still catch the 17 bus?" How did she know what bus I took?

"Yeah?"

"So do I. We can talk on the bus."

How did I miss that? What else have I been missing? Was my neighbor Kaiser? Or maybe the lunch lady was actually the Simurgh? "Ok."

Once we were on the bus Kay looked at me expectantly. I stammered a little before I got started. "Can you apologize to Arun for me? I had no idea … about anything apparently. I certainly didn't mean to shoot him down."

"Does that mean you want to go out with him?"

"Ah … No idea really. I don't know him."

"So maybe you should get together to get to know him. Maybe a coffee rather than a date?"

"Maybe a group thing first. I don't even know if my Dad will let me date yet. It's never come up."

"Let you date?"

"Uh … or whatever? I really have no idea how this works."

"So you're not asking me to set things up with Arun?"

"No?"

"Are you asking _me_ out, cause while that's not my thing, it's ok if it's yours."

"No. Not asking anyone out. I just …"

"Just what?"

"Just realized you were right and I was disconnected from everyone at Winslow."

"You were the walking dead. I was waiting for you to go all "Braaiinnsss …" on us."

"Yeah well, I thought it might be worth it to try to dezombify, at least a little."

"And you chose me as your first contact with the living? I'm flattered. Not as flattered as if you were after my body rather than my guidance back to the land of the living, but flattered none the less."

"But I thought you said ..."

"Just because I don't swing that way doesn't mean I can't appreciate the compliment."

"Ah … so …"

She waited while I searched around for a conversation starter. After letting me flounder for a few minutes she said, "Oh yeah, I see I've got my work cut out for me. Let's start with something simple. If you were looking to date, who would you be interested in?" She actually fluttered her eyelashes at me.

I was beginning to wonder if this was really worth it. Maybe I was better forgetting about making friends at Winslow after all.

When I got home I started cooking a tuna casserole. It was Dad's favorite of the few real dishes I could cook. He had agreed to come him early so we could eat together. While I cooked, I started reviewing my current build progress.

I had a total of 169 charges as of this morning. I tested my strength at the Boat Graveyard last night to find I could lift almost 5000lbs. My damage resistance and regeneration were also higher than before the fight with Lung. My power punch added damage and seem to ignore or negate armor from a half inch of rusty steel. On the other hand, neither my taser touch nor my arcblast had improved. My running and flight speed was still the same, 20 and 35 mph respectively, but my reaction times seemed improved to something like three times normal human. I couldn't think of a way to test out the new power reduction field. I didn't know how far it went, though I suspected it was touch only at this point. Nor did I know how much it reduced other capes' powers. In the fight with Lung it was supercharged and still didn't have much effect. No improvement in my Thinker, Shaper, or Breaker powers.

If I wanted to stick with my original build plan, I needed to boost my strength, flight, defenses, and arcblast. I had gone with the hand-based blast because eyebeams and breath weapons seemed a little too specific to the Kryptonians. Dad worried about lawyers from Earth Aleph. With hand-based blasts I got the same effect without tying myself to a single character.

The increase from each charge differed depending on the power it went into and how high that power already was. For instance the increase in pure strength was much greater from the same number of charges than the increase in speed or defense. From what I could see most powers improved in something between a linear and a logarithmic progression, but my math was not good enough to quite figure it out. I called it semi-logarithmic and tested frequently.

This, combined with subconscious charge placement during combat, made for difficulties in carefully planning my build. I also had to take into account new powers that were outside the plan, like this new Trump ability. Did I want to ignore it by starving it of new charges, or incorporate it into the build and shape it into something useful?

Maybe I needed to invest in some super planning Thinker charges.

"Dad, I discovered some new fallout from the Trio's harassment today."

"Something I need to bring in Helen for?" Dad looked worried and I realized that was probably the wrong way to start the conversation.

"No, nothing like that. I discovered that I have spent the last two years concentrating on them and their shit, and ignored pretty much the entire rest of the school. What's worse is that I've continued to ignore everyone, even though the Three are gone. That puts it on me, not them."

He forked a mouthful of noodly goodness and used the mastication time to think. Eventually he said, "So what are you going to do about it?"

"No advice?"

"I realized years ago that, while I am forced to be extroverted and social at work, in my heart I am an introvert. Other than your Mother and a very few others. I didn't socialize outside of work stuff. Your Mom dragged me to parties and events, but I without that I was more likely to stay home on nights and weekends. Since … well I've had nothing but work to get me out of the house. I see a lot of me in you. Your new 'job' has you socializing. But other than that you stay home and read. I've got no advice. Save a warning that the life of an introvert can get a little lonely unless you have that special someone with you. I'd rather not see you lonely."

"Wow … That's pretty heavy. I guess I need to …"

An explosion rocked the house. I could tell from the sounds outside that it was both massive and far away. Seconds later a second explosion sounded.

Dad and I looked at each other. "I guess you need to go to work. But Taylor, please be careful. You're all I have now. Don't leave me all alone."

"I love you Dad. I'll be careful." And with a change of costume I was out the attic window.


	8. Chapter 8

2.2

I was up over the city looking for the sites of the explosions. I could see several columns of smoke and hear screams and sirens in the distance. As I watched another blast went off somewhere Downtown. My initial reaction was to rush to the closest blaze and try to put the fire out or help rescue people. The problem was I didn't have super breath to freeze flames, nor did I know how to move injured people safely. I decided to do the smart thing and took out my new PRT phone.

"PRT Hotline."

"This is Icon. I'm a newly registered hero. How can I help?"

"One moment … Transferring you to the command center."

"Icon?" I didn't recognize the voice.

"Yes."

"This is PRT Deputy Director Renick. I'm managing the coordinated response center. Are you willing to work in coordination with us?"

"I am."

"Good. I'm pulling up your file now. What's your current location?"

"I'm flying over the south end of the Docks. Near Gordon's Seafood."

"I need you to get to Grace General Hospital. The ambulance docks and Emergency Room entrance have been damaged. I have Manpower, Glory Girl, and Clockblocker on site. Work with them to clear a path for the injured."

"I'm on it." I activated the GPS function of the phone. The destination appeared and a direct flight route was highlighted. "ETA four minutes."

"Copy four minutes."

I followed the directions until I was floating over the damaged section of the hospital. An explosion had dropped the two-story section of the building that had been overhanging the emergency room entrance. The debris also blocked the ambulance parking area, trapping the needed response vehicles. Among the numerous uniformed hospital staff and regular people, I could see the clock-themed Ward was freezing piles of rubble, making it safe for the two New Wave heroes to move debris and fallen concrete without danger of further collapse.

I landed and approached the older hero. I knew he'd been in the business for more than a decade. I assumed he would be in charge. "I'm Icon. They sent me to help. I can lift a couple of tons and fly. Where do you want me?"

"Top priority is getting those ambulances on the road." Manpower exuded such presence up close. He was massive and his deep voice reverberated in the evening air. Just wow. "Can you work with Glory Girl to lift them over the debris? Get them to that parking lot over there and the EMT teams can get out into the city where they're needed. We can work to clear this entrance while they are out."

"Right," I agreed. I looked over to Glory Girl. She was stunning too. She looked like Supergirl dressed as Mary Marvel, but in white. I wanted to be jealous because she was well along the path I wanted to take, but something about her was just so likeable. And I hadn't even talked with her yet. She waved me over.

"Hey! I'm Glory Girl. Can you lift one of those by yourself?"

"I don't think so. Besides I'm not sure there are any points that I could grab that could carry the whole weight without ripping off."

"Yeah. That's what I was thinking too. But if we grab a couple of those steel girders or whatever they're called, we can straighten them out, slip them under the bottom, and raise the ambulance like a garage lift."

"Sounds good. Let's give it a try." We searched for a minute to find a couple of long steel tubes that the rebar was attached to. I saw Glory Girl pinching off the attached rods. I had to bend them and wrap them around my bar. But both ways worked.

"Who's stronger?" she asked. "The weaker one should control the lift."

"I don't know."

"How about a quick arm wrestle?" She was grinning.

"I guess." It was better than a fight. She stepped over to a large block of concrete and set her elbow on the rough surface. I smiled and stepped over, taking her hand.

"On three," she said. "One, two, three!" We both started to push.

I remember wrestling with both my Dad and Emma like this when we were much younger. Wrestling with Glory Girl was more like trying to take my Dad down. She was just that much stronger than me. In seconds she had my hand on the concrete. I guess I had more growing to do.

"Well, that answers that," I said. She grinned. I guess it's good to be the princess.

"So, we move the bars under the frame. Then I'll match your lift. Let's keep this slow."

"Right." After a couple of bobbles, we managed to get the first ambulance off the ground and slowly floated over the debris field. We set it down in the parking lot and the crew immediately started checking it over. Five minutes later, just as we were bringing in the second rig, the first responders were rolling.

It took almost thirty minutes to empty the holding pen. Then another forty minutes to clear the emergency room entrance, just as the first ambulances were returning. In the distance, the bombings continued.

"Manpower, if you are done there," came Renick's voice of over the New Wave hero's speakerphone, "we need Glory Girl to bring in Panacea. Grace General will be the primary medical evac point. Clockblocker, we have a PRT transport on the way for you. Icon, we need you to help Aegis clear the top floors of Herndon Tower. Something turned the first five floors to glass. We're not sure how long it will stand. But the ladders can't reach that high, the fire escapes are broken, and there is no way down on the inside."

"I'm on my way." I lifted off and checked my phone for directions.

When I reached the apartment block it had already collapsed. I worked with the fire department to recover survivors. I spent my one reserve charge to boost my senses to help me find them in the wreckage. Aegis was assigned elsewhere while I worked.

I tried to save everyone, but there were so many already killed. Every time I came across a body, I felt so useless. Finding those still alive was great, but I knew it was the dead kids in particular that I would be seeing every time I closed my eyes.

The job was not complete when I got a call from PRT Control. "Icon, we need you to get to West Jameson between 8th and 9th, ASAP. We have a PRT personnel transport with bomb parts and two wounded agents. We need you to get it safely back to HQ with all possible speed. Do you copy?"

"But they still need me here," I protested. "I might be able to save more people."

"Getting those bomb parts here could help us save the whole city. Move it."

_Fuck!_ I thought for a minute. _What would Superman do? This must be what they mean by the "Greater Good". _

"Lieutenant," I stepped over to inform the BBFD commander. "I'm being called away by PRT Control. I've got to go."

"Shit. Well, orders are orders I guess," he growled. Then he saw how much this was hurting me. "Look, you did good here. I guess they need you elsewhere. Just keep doing good."

I nodded and launched into the air, following my electronic leash.

Three minutes later I found the target vehicle. It was one of the smaller sport SUVs painted in PRT colors. A bomb had exploded nearby, taking out most of a building and leaving the SUV lodged on some broken pavement, with its front axel lifted a yard off the ground. There was a ruffled agent standing next to it. She waved to get my attention.

"I'm Guzman," she informed me as I landed. "There are two other wounded inside." I glanced in and sure enough there were two men with bloodied bandages strapped into their seats.

"Icon," I shook her hand. "Do you think it can drive if I get it back on the road?"

"Not a chance. The axle is busted. Any chance you can carry us?"

I looked at the vehicle. It was a lot smaller than the ambulances I had been lifting earlier. "I can try. Give me a second." I scampered underneath, put my shoulders against the frame, and lifted. It was heavy, but I thought I could do it. I settled back down. "Get in," I called to Guzman.

I felt her climb in and took off. I was able to carry the SUV, but it slowed be down to about half my not terribly fast speed. It took ten minutes to get near the PRT Building. That is where I noticed a group of twenty or so ABB gangsters moving towards the same target. _Crap._ No way I could get my phone out. I yelled to Guzman, but she must not have been able to hear me.

I pushed my flight for all I could get, aiming not for the garage entrance, but for the PRT roof. I set the SUV on the side of the helipad.

"What are you doing?" Guzman yelled as she got out of the truck. Two other agents, armed and armored were approaching from the roof entrance.

"The ABB are coming. It was too dangerous to leave you where they could get you." I pointed in the direction from which the gang was approaching. One of the guards split off and looked over the edge of the roof. Seconds late an alarm rang out. Without another word I took off.

The ABB had advanced into the small plaza across the street from the PRT main entrance. This was the sight of semi-permanent protests, vigils, celebrations, and other public displays aimed at the PRT and Protectorate. As the Rig was out in the Bay, this was as close as most people could get to the heroes. Somehow, I didn't think these guys had come to party.

The PRT HQ windows all polarized, hiding the interior of the building. A dozen heavily armed PRT agents poured out, carrying crates that grew into interlocked temporary barriers complete with shooting positions, that blocked the entire entrance. Got to love tinker tech. The whole maneuver took less than ten seconds. The ABB watched in shock, then readied their own guns.

A man in black with a red devil mask and a boatload of grenades and knives appeared behind the PRT barrier. He dropped two grenades which exploded almost instantly. I tried to get there in time, but he was too fast. Several PRT agents were thrown against the inside of the barrier, which barely trembled from the blast. The door glass cracked but held. That was when the ABB opened fire.

Oni Lee, the killer teleporter of the ABB. He must be here to free Lung. Everyone knew the PRT had special cells for the worst of the worst somewhere in their building. They had to be holding the Dragon of Kyushu in there somewhere.

I couldn't let the ABB bust him out.

My mind went into overdrive. I had no charges in reserve, so I was going to have to do this the hard way. I could try to stop the normal shooters or concentrate on the supervillain. There was only one decision. The gang bangers would never make it through the PRT defenses. But Lee was a real danger. The question was, what could I do to him.

I landed in the middle of the street and started sending arcblasts into the mass of ABB shooters. I was able to tank their return fire, though I won't say it didn't hurt. While attacking the gang I was trying to spot the inevitable incoming ambush.

A flicker from the corner of my eye alerted me as Oni Lee appeared, stabbing out with a tanto and dropping a grenade. I dodged the knife and kicked the grenade towards a deserted part of the street. I think I was lucky. Rather than exploding the grenade released a black sphere that sucked in pavement, all the loose trash, and half a car. I have no idea what that would have done to me, but it would _not_ have been pretty. Or survivable. Shit just got real.

I slammed an elbow into Oni Lee's head, pulling the blow. But that proved unnecessary as the man burst into white ash on contact. He reappeared by the building door. He lashed out at one of the PRT agents with his knife, while grabbing another grenade with his other hand. I managed to blast him, causing him to ash before his attacks landed.

He was fast, but I was faster, barely. I was able to foil his next three attacks, but all I was doing was reacting. I had to powder him anytime he got close to me as I couldn't risk one of those black hole grenades. And I had no idea what else he had on that bandoleer.

PHO claimed his teleport required line of sight. What I needed to do was find some way to blind him. Then I remembered my new power reduction field. I quickly turned it on. Not sure what it would do, but it might help. I moved closer to the PRT entrance, knowing that was what needed the most protection. The agents spread out to give me room, while maintaining fire on the ABB.

When Oni Lee next appeared, I whipped off my cape, trying to get it over his head, only for another devil masked man to appear, then a third. I managed to cover one, but it was the first. I blasted the second and punched the third, but not before he released a grenade the sent lightning to strike me, the door, the barrier, and two of the agents.

I was knocked off my feet and slammed into the building, cracking a window. Shudders ran through my body. Oni Lee reappeared in front of the door, reaching for two more grenades. From my recumbent position, I blasted him with both hands. The arc of energy was considerably thicker than my previous attacks, which surprised both of us. I think I heard him "eep!" before he burst into ash.

Lee started flooding the area in front of the entrance with duplicates. Five, eight, twelve! Appearing in seconds. All reaching for grenades.

"Down!" I yelled as I grabbed one of the barriers and spun the five-by-five foot metal wall like a frisbee, cutting through the mob of bombers and raising a cloud of white ash.

I heard a step behind me and whirled. It was Lee. I grabbed his mask, trying to cover his eyes. He already had a gun pointed right at my face. A really big gun. Without a word, he fired. It felt like I had been kicked in the head and I was blinded. Then he powdered.

By the time I had my vision clear the ABB was retreating before two more squads of PRT agents moving in from the garage entrance.

There was no sign of Lee. He'd gotten away. But without Lung.


	9. Chapter 9

2.3

Saturday was a very frustrating day.

After a night of disaster recovery, the PRT Director called for a general meeting of all participating heroes. It was pretty special to be in a room with the Protectorate, the Wards, New Wave, what looked like one of Dragon's smaller suits, and me. That was a lot of capes. It reminded me of the old JLA/JSA team-ups.

Director Piggott started once everyone was seated. "In the past fourteen hours there have been at least thirty-one known bomb attacks in Brockton Bay. The targets of these attacks include hospitals, businesses, apartment buildings, transportation hubs, and retail centers. There have been seventy-three reported fatalities and more than 400 injured. The last attack was at 4:18 a.m., approximately four hours ago. We do not know if this is a temporary cessation or a permanent end to the attacks."

She projected a several pictures of a Eurasian woman alongside what appeared to be the aftermath of several bombings. "This is Bakuda, a tinker that specializes in bombs. You may recall her attack on Cornell University some months ago. We have reason to believe she was recruited into the ABB by Lung shortly before his capture. Whether this was to build up his forces in anticipation of an attack on one or more of the rival gangs here in the Bay or for some other reason, we do not know."

"We now believe she is working with Oni Lee," his photo filled the screen. "…to effect the release of Lung. It is our conclusion that Bakuda's bomb attacks were meant to distract and occupy the Protectorate and PRT, allowing Oni Lee to attack the PRT holding facility. This attack took place and was foiled by our associate, Icon." She indicated me and there were a few murmurs of approbation.

"At this point we have three competing priorities. Here is how we propose deploying our resources. Armsmaster will lead a contingent of Protectorate and PRT agents to remove Lung to Boston, or perhaps New York. We expect this will draw another attempt to free him. We would ask that most of you separate into these teams." Groups of names appeared on the screen. I was paired to Aegis and Laserdream. "We need to provide security for hospitals, schools and universities, the malls, and government buildings. These are the most vulnerable to further attack. Luckily it is the weekend so many of these targets are mostly unoccupied, but certainly not all of them. Teams have been assigned in shifts to allow for rest and recovery." Paper schedules were passed out. Our team was scheduled for the first shift at the Courthouse Complex, where both the City and County courts were, along with the jail to hold defendants awaiting trial, and a number of local government office.

"Coordination will continue from PRT HQ. If you don't have a PRT earbud, please take one before you go and tune it to your team channel. Are the any questions?" There were none so we were dismissed. I felt like I was in the Army now. I nodded the other two on my team and we started towards the door, grabbing a tinkertech communications earbud on the way. It auto-synced to my PRT phone.

Once in the hallway, Aegis and I nodded to each other. We had met briefly the night before.

"Hi, I'm Laserdream," the tall blond said, holding out her hand. She looked a lot like her cousin, though older and not quite as impressive. The family resemblance was strong.

"Hi. Icon," I answered, shaking her hand.

"Given that we were teamed together I am assuming they expect us to fly to the Courthouse," Aegis suggested. "It's only about five block away. We should head to the roof."

From the helipad we could see there were still several columns of smoke rising into the morning sky. A pall of smoke hung over the downtown. Last night was hellish, but this morning made things look more pitiful. We took off and flew in a loose formation. Laserdream led the way. I had to push a bit to keep up. I really needed to throw some charges into faster flight.

I had gained a total of six charges the previous night; the normal one, plus five for the fight against Oni Lee and the ABB. One had auto-dropped into a new energy absorption power. That explained the temporary surge for my arcblast. I had not had time to explore it yet. As I could only hold three charges in reserve, I had dropped one into improving my arcblast and a second into upping my energy defenses. I decided to hold the other three, but flight was their likely destination.

At the courthouse Aegis suggested that we have two of us on air patrol above the complex and one patrolling inside. "As I don't have any ranged attack and am a government cape, it makes the most sense for me to be on the interior."

"That sounds good," I agreed.

"Make sure to keep us informed on the comms," Laserdream added.

"Alright." He waved and headed for the front door. While Laserdream and I took off.

"Do you want high sweep or perimeter?" she asked. It took me a second to figure out what she was probably meaning. I think she was used to working in her team and they had their way of doing things.

"I have enhanced sight so why don't I take the high spot. You're also the faster flyer, so you can cover more ground and get to trouble spots more quickly."

"Make sense." She waved and flew towards the surrounding building while I started circling above the tops of the nearby roofs.

"So … Vicky said you were cool to work with last night," came a voice over the comms. Laserdream, it seemed, was not too comfortable with prolonged silences. I wonder if Dad would describe her as an extrovert.

"Uh … thanks?" I replied uncertainly.

"I just think she likes having another Alexandria package around. And being able to out arm wrestle you helped lessen any negative impact on her ego."

"That doesn't make her sound very nice," Aegis interjected. "I don't see her as that fragile."

"Fragile!' Laserdream laughed. "I'm gonna tell her you said that."

"Hey! I said she wasn't fragile."

"I thought she was good to work with," I cut in. I thought they were just joking with each other, but couldn't be sure. "And your father was great. He really knows what he's doing."

"That I won't tell him," she replied. "Can't let parents think they know everything. But yeah, he's pretty cool."

After a few minutes I asked, "If it's not out of line, can I ask how long you two have been active heroes?"

"As you obviously know, I'm second generation so I've been part of the cape scene since I was little. I've been active as a cape myself since I was … fifteen, so four years."

"I joined the Wards around eighteen months ago. I'll age out in a few months," Aegis added.

"And me just over a week," I complained. "Tell me it's not always this busy."

"No," he replied. "Lung, the new Merchant at the Mall, the bank robbery, the kidnapping attempt, and the bombings - this has been an unusually busy week."

"I don't think I heard about the Merchant?" Laserdream said.

"Report said Assault and Battery faced one of the old Slaughterhouse Nine remnants, an evil clown named Chuckles. They say he's all drugged out now and part of the Merchants. They ran him out of Hillside Mall on Tuesday. He was trying to rob a jewelry store or something."

"Damn, that is a far fall – S9 to the Merchants," I muttered. I shuddered at the thought of the defunct murder gang coming to Brocton Bay. The remnants of their implosion were bad enough, but without Jack Slash or the Siberian, they were nowhere near the threat. Especially as they no longer worked together, the Fates aside.

The conversation continued for most of the four hour shift. By the end I could tell Laserdream was dragging. It had been a long twenty hours since the bombings started and unlike Aegis or I, she did not have a power that let her function non-stop for days. She was running on willpower and caffeine. When we were relieved by Dauntless, Kid Win, and Shielder we got word that the ABB had managed to break Lung out of the prisoner transport. Velocity and Triumph had both been wounded in the fight, but were expected to recover.

I decided to make a quick stop at home to check on Dad. On the way I heard another explosion and rushed to see if I could help. When I got to the site, the BBSU campus, I found Lady Photon working to penetrate a translucent green bubble that encapsulated about a third of the building.

"What is that?" I asked. "How can I help?"

"Some sort of time bubble, like Grey Boy used to create." The New Wave leader replied as she zapped the globe again. Her attack seemed to have no effect. After another blast she stopped. "I don't think there's anything anyone can do. Damn it!"

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was patrolling the University. I didn't see any signs of the ABB or any unusual activity. Then this thing appeared. No warning. Just pop and there it was."

I scanned the area, listening for signs of injured or trapped survivors. I heard something coming from the building. It sounded like metal straining and brick crumbling. "I think the building is going to collapse. We have to evacuate it."

"It should be empty. I hit the alarm first thing."

I popped two charges, one into flight speed and one into my thinker abilities, boosting both senses and cognition. I flew in through the window closest to the globe. Inside what turned out to be the physics building I found a couple of people who were trying to gather stuff. Probably experiments or research or something, I figured. With no time to argue, I grabbed them and tossed them out the window. Lady Photon caught them with a force field slide to the grass. By the time I had worked my way to the ground floor, I could see cracks spreading across the walls and floors. I managed to find two more people in the basement as the building started to collapse. I got them out just in time, flying through an opening that had moments before been a wall.

Lady Photon's force wall was keeping people who seemed intent on running back into the building from doing so.

The building fell away from the time capsule, leaving it hanging in the air. It was easy to see people inside the bubbled section, frozen in mid-motion. As soon as the rubble settled I started searching again. I was joined by BBFD responders several minutes later. After an hour of searching we found nothing.

Throughout the day the bombings continued, though at a much slower pace than during the night. They seemed to be concentrated in E88 territory, though there were a few blasts in the Merchant's areas as well. The University was the only protected target attacked.

I finally made it home around dinnertime.

"Taylor! Are you ok?"

"I told you I was ok when I called you earlier. Nothing happened since."

"You don't look fine." He took my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. Dad was not a hugger. He must really have been worried.

"I'm just so frustrated!" I kicked the ottoman, it crashed into the coffee table, knocking them both over. "Oh! Sorry."

"What's wrong?"

"I've spent all day either trying to put out fires, sometimes literally, or guarding buildings that no one was attacking."

"And?"

"I don't understand why the heroes are being so passive. They're just reacting, or trying to hold a few select locations. They should be taking the fight to the ABB. Trying to find Bakuda. Doing something to stop the attacks at the source, especially since we can't seem to stop them just by watching the targets."

"What do you think they … you … should be doing?" He eased me down on to the couch and sat with my hand in his.

"I don't know. But I'm the new girl. They should know what to do. They've been at this for years."

"So maybe they're doing what their experience tells them is best?"

"Maybe. Or maybe they are just more comfortable with a passive/reactive mindset. I've read arguments on PHO that the Protectorate seldom, if ever, initiates attacks against villains. They've known about the ABB for years. Why let it get this bad?"

I thought for a few moments, then remembered Dinah. "There are thinkers, precogs, in the PRT. Why not use them to help find Bakuda and her bombs? Right now they're more dangerous than Lung. Without her he'd still be in custody."

I wondered if I could get hold of the young precog and see if she could help find the bad guys. "Do you know where the Mayor lives?" I asked Dad.

"What?"

I explained to him who Dinah was and how she might be able to help.

"But she is only his niece. I doubt she lives with the Mayor." Dad reminded me as I wound down.

"No, maybe not. But the Mayor's residence is one of the places on the PRT protection list. Maybe he brought the rest of his family in for safety or something."

"Maybe. But you might want to check on the Alcott's first. Can you find their address on the internet?"

"I'll look."

It was just before 7 p.m. when I landed in front of the Alcott's. There was a PRT SUV stationed across the street. Part of her promised protection detail I guessed. I approached it and held out my ID.

"Let me check this," the agent said. After running in through his computer he nodded at me. I approached the door, when it opened. Dinah was there with her mother.

"Mrs. Alcott? I'm Icon. Might I have a few words with Dinah?"

The older woman rushed out and swept me into a hug. "Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Dinah has been saying that there was likely to be another kidnapping attempt on her. Something about taking advantage of the confusion. She says it's best if she goes with you and you not tell us where you're taking her. I'm not sure about that. But you did save her before and she says she'll call to let us know she's alright. Not where she is, but that she's alright. Oh, I don't know…" I was almost overwhelmed by the verbal flood. If not for my accelerated cognition, I'm not sure I would have understood half of the deluge.

"Mom, it's for the best," Dinah assured her. I noticed she had a small backpack on wheels with her. "And we need to hurry. You'll be fine if I'm gone, and so will I."

"Alright. Alright, Dinah-bird, you probably knew best now. But be careful out there." Mrs. Alcott turned to me. "And you take care of her. Keep her safe, you hear me."

"Yes ma'am." I said not really knowing what else to say.

Dinah stepped out and took my hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "We have to go."

I came to her to get information. I'd be foolish to ignore her just because it was not what I expected. I swept her and her bag into my arms and took off.


	10. Chapter 10

2.4

"Where are you taking me?' Dinah asked as we flew towards Downtown. I landed on a hotel roof.

"That's a real good question," I replied. I had no idea where to take her. I couldn't just bring her to my home. That would be revealing my secret identity to her.

"Don't you have a super hideout or something?"

"Not yet. I've only been a hero for a week."

"Oh." She was silent for a moment, then smiled. "I know! We can go to my friend Riley's house. Riley Havisham. She wanted me to come for a sleepover this weekend before all the bad stuff happened."

I looked at her suspiciously. "Did you make up this kidnapping danger so that you could go to a sleepover?"

"No! I swear," she protested. "The danger was real, almost 90%. I just thought it might be a safe place and I already have an invite."

"Is that your power talking?"

"No. I have a hard limit on how many questions I can ask without going into some real pain. I pushed it this morning to get five questions. The best result was if you or another hero took me away from my home before 7 p.m. All the other options were … bad." She winced. "I can't ask any more questions until at least tomorrow. Maybe longer."

_Damn_, I thought. "Alright. You tell me where your friend's is and we'll see what happens."

She gave me an address that I entered in to the GPS system. It gave me a route and an ETA of twelve minutes. To maintain security, I decided not to call ahead. As I got closer, I started scanning the area, checking for watchers or other signs of danger. I really wished I had x-ray vision. But that was later on the list. I found nothing and landed in front of a newer ranch style house on a largish lot. The neighborhood was similar to mine, though further from the gang areas and closer to BBSU. Given the attack on campus that morning, this did not mean the neighborhood was necessarily safer.

Dinah knocked on the door while I looked around. The sound of a stampeding elephant, or a twelve year old girl, thundered through the interior of the house, only to be stopped before the door by a raised voice. A moment later the door opened to reveal the unexpected face of my former babysitter and longtime neighbor, Antigone "Nonie" Jones. I almost called her name in shock. Luckily I was forestalled by a short girl with blond ringlets shoving her way through the doorway and grabbing Dinah in a hug.

"Dinah, you came!"

"Riley! Air … need air …" Dinah gasped.

Nonie looked at me in shock. It is not every day you get a cape on your doorstep, I guessed. "Yes?" she asked.

"I'm Icon. I'm working with the Protectorate." I showed her my PRT ID card. I don't think most people knew what a 'PRT Affiliate' was, but the official ID made them more comfortable. Almost like a badge. "May we come in?"

"Come in! Come in!" Riley shouted, pulling Dinah's arm. Nonie, shrugged and allowed us to enter.

"Are you Miss Havisham's guardian?" I asked Nonie, knowing she wasn't.

"No. Well sort of. I'm her bab …"

"Hey!" the girl in question interrupted.

"That is I'm her caretaker," Nonie said rolling her eyes. "While her father's out of town at a conference. What is this about?"

I sighed. This was getting more complicated. "This is Dinah Alcott …"

"She's my best friend, and the Mayor's niece," Riley interrupted again, stressing the second point as if it gave Dinah more authority or credibility. "She was supposed to stay over this weekend. But Dad had to go out of town. And now she's here!"

"Ah …" Nonie looked at me in confusion.

"Earlier this week there was an attempt to abduct Miss Alcott," I explained. "There has been a credible threat of another attempt targeting her home. We are looking for someplace unconnected to either her family or the authorities for her to stay for the night while the threat is addressed."

"Sure she can stay here. We'll be her safe house!"

"Riley!" Nonie scolded. "What would your father say?" She turned to me. "I'm sorry. I have a responsibility to Riley and her father. I can't agree to something that might attract criminals to this house."

Dinah looked crestfallen, while Riley looked rebellious. "Call Dad," she demanded. "He would want to help my friend."

"I don't know Riley …" Nonie started, only for the girl to whip out her phone and initiate the call. I was tempted to listen in to the other side of the conversation, but thought that would be a breach of trust and privacy.

"Dad … No, I'm ok. Everything's fine … The bombs aren't anywhere near here … I need to ask a serious favor … You remember my friend Dinah? … Well, she's in some trouble and needs a place to lay low for a day or two … Some more kidnappers are after her … She has a hero with her … No, they need a place to stay for the night that no one else can connect to her … This is serious Dad … OK, here's Nonie."

She handed the phone to Nonie.

"Dr. Havisham? … She's that new hero Icon. She showed me her PRT ID … Are you sure? … Ok? … Alright, I will. See you tomorrow." She disconnected and handed the phone back to Riley.

"Dr. Havisham says you can stay the night. He's coming home early and should be back before tomorrow evening."

"Drat!" Riley expostulated. "It took me forever to convince him it was ok to go to the conference. He never wanted to leave me alone, and now he's going to bring this up forever."

"Sorry Riley," Dinah said. "We can go. You can tell him he should stay."

"No. He was probably itching to come home because of the bombings. This is just his excuse." Suddenly she brightened. "Besides, now we get our sleepover! Let's go." Riley grabbed Dinah's bag and ran down the hall.

Dinah looked to me. I looked to Nonie. She nodded, so I nodded. Dinah was off like a shot. Was I ever that young? I mean it was, like, three years ago.

"Would you like to have a seat? I can offer coffee, tea, or juice. No soda in the house." Nonie gestured towards the living room. I thought for a minute. It would be safer for my secret if I spent as little time with this woman who had known me since I was a kid. I doubted she would be able to see past the different appearance and size, but there was no reason to take the risk.

"No, thank you. I'm going to patrol outside," I noticed a notepad on a side table and quickly jotted down my PRT phone's number. "This is my number. Call me if you or Dinah need to talk or there is anything suspicious. I will be seconds away. Pay particular attention if Dinah says something is wrong. Contact me at once. Alright?"

"Alright." She looked a little shaken, but calmed quickly. I always thought she was made of stern stuff.

I nodded and went back outside. I floated above the house, looking for a good place to surveil the neighborhood. There was only one street into the _cul-de-sac_. I found a tree near the entrance to the street and settled in for a long watch.

I reported to the PRT to let them know I was off the watch rotation as I was trying to develop a lead on the bombings, but did not give any more information. I don't think they were happy but the emergency was mostly over. During the night there were a few explosions, but none nearby. Nor was there any strange activity targeting the house.

Sunday morning I knocked on the door at 8a.m. I could hear activity from the girls' room. I knew which was theirs as I had patrolled around the house in the night and could hear them talking and laughing into the wee hours of the morning. I was surprised they were up so early.

I knocked on the front door. Riley answered and pulled me in. "Hey Icon. Anything interesting happen last night?" she asked.

"Only some strange giggling sounds coming from the back room," I said, pointing towards her room.

They both giggled. I rolled my eyes, only to find Nonie doing the same.

"How are you feeling Dinah? Any headache?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I feel pretty good actually. Really good." Her answer sparked more giggles. I wished I could raise a single eyebrow to show my incredulity. Maybe I could spend a charge. I had dropped the night's charge into flight speed, maintaining my reserve of three.

"Ok. Good." I said. "Could I speak to you for a minute?" She nodded and followed me in to the hall. I continued in a much quieter voice. "Do you think you'll be up to answering a few questions this morning?"

"Yeah. I already checked and the chance of my being kidnapped is only 6.893%. After that I saved my questions for you. I … I think I am feeling less pain from them. I could probably answer four more today." She looked away from me when she said the last. I wondered if she was offering to push herself on my account.

"Hopefully that won't be necessary. Here is what I had in mind. I am trying to find where Bakuda is making her bombs, her main lab or hideout. What I was going to do was get a map of the city, mark it in quadrants and ask you how likely it was that her lab/factory was north of the longitude line and west of the latitude line. That would at least give us a smaller area to search. If you had power for more questions we could start to split the quadrant in to smaller sections. And keep going. Do you think that would work?"

"It should. My power is not so literal as to think we were asking about the piece of paper rather than the area it represents. We just need a map. I bet Riley has one."

"Should we be doing this in front of her? She'll know your secret."

"That's ok. She already does. I told you. She's my best friend."

I winced as I thought about Emma, my best friend when I was Dinah's age, and how she had betrayed all my secrets. I just hoped Riley was better than her. "What about Nonie? I mean Ms. Jones."

"Riley says she's really cool and is great at keeping secrets."

"If you're sure." I wondered if her power had told her something. Working with Thinkers could be weird. Completely ignoring the fact I was a budding Thinker myself.

"Let's get started." Dinah zoomed back in to the dining room. "Riley, we need a map!"

"What kind of map?" the other girl asked.

"A detailed street map of Brockton Bay," I answered. I wanted to be able to get as close to the actual location as her power would get us. The more detailed the map the better the possibilities.

Riley's face fell. "I don't think we have one, except maybe in Dad's van. And he's driving that. What about online?"

"No, I think it has to be paper," Dinah said after some thought.

"I guess we'll have to buy one," I suggested. "Though it will look a little funny, me stopping in a gas station dressed like this." Unsurprisingly the girls giggled.

"There's a big map on the wall at my brother's house," Nonie said. "He's a PRT agent and keeps an up-to-date one there for work purposes."

I almost told her I knew the map she was talking about. I'd seen it several times over the years. Their father had a big map on their wall even before Lee became an agent. Then I remembered I was not Taylor, but Icon, who had never been in their house. "Do you think we could use it?"

She thought for a moment, "Sure. You're working with the PRT already, right?"

"Yes. This is part of a larger PRT coordinated effort." That had the virtue of even being true, without saying that it was my own idea that I hoped would contribute to the larger investigation.

"Right," she said decisively. "Shall I drive?"

The traffic was unusually heavy for a Sunday morning. I wondered if church attendance was up due to the bombings and high number of casualties. People react to crises in different ways. It was almost eleven when we got to the Jones'. I tried not to remember all the times my father, or Dr. Jones, had made the obvious 'Keeping up with the Jones' joke.

Nonie led us inside. I noticed Riley had on a backpack, like she was going to school. I shrugged and entered the familiar dwelling. The Map sprawled across one wall in Lee's office, what had been their father's office before him. It was a six foot by six foot map of the city detailed down to individual blocks and buildings printed in blue ink on white background and was dated 2010.

We all looked at it, then Nonie looked at me. "Will that do?"

I got a nod from Dinah then asked Nonie, "Do you have some pushpins and twine or ribbon? String would do, but something thicker than thread." I wondered if Riley had her school supplies in her backpack.

"Let me go look," Nonie moved into the kitchen. As she was rattling though the drawers, I heard a vehicle pull into the driveway. A side window let me see that Lee had come home, driving his big PRT SUV. Nonie had seen him also. I could see her setting something on their big oak kitchen table and waving to her brother. I waited in the office, not wanting to startle him when he came in. I had not seen him at the PRT and did not know if he would recognize my cape form.

He was lugging his usual equipment case. I had seen him carry the grey hard-shell case in and out of the house a hundred times, but had never gotten the courage to ask what was in it. As he reached the back door I head another car race into the driveway. I looked over trying to see it, tensing at the unusual sound.

Then the world exploded.

Sounds and pressure pounded at me. I whirled to pull the two girls into my arms and crouched against the wall. I could feel the heat wash over us. Then …

I saw the eldritch beings again, spreading the seeds.

It lasted an eternity or no time at all

I came back.

The world was crushing me. The house had fallen on me and was burning. I could feel both Dinah and Riley squirming beneath me. They were alive at least. I couldn't see Nonie or Lee.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"Just keep holding it for a bit longer," Riley relied. She was moving around. I think she was trying to get something out of her backpack. I felt cold metal against my stomach. Then a six inch metal spider crawled over my shoulder and started digging through the wreckage I was holding. It was followed by three others. They spread out and disappeared.

I could hear them moving, dislodging debris.

After a minute or two Riley said, "Ok. I'm in the kitchen. It is really trashed. Uh … yes! Nonie's under that big table and for some reason it's holding up half the house. I'm moving two of the spiders to start stabilizing the rubble with webs. The other two are going to do the same in here. Give me about five minutes and you should be able to try to dig us out."

A flood of small bugs rushed over me and up the wall. I almost freaked and dropped the house. "These babies will put out the fire. Or at least smother as much as they can."

"What …" I started, then realized she was a cape. I'd been hearing rumors about an insect controller on PHO. They called her Swarm. It must be Riley. "How is Nonie?" I asked. "And Lee?"

"Who?"

"There was a guy, a PRT agent, coming in the back door when the house exploded. Any sign of him? Maybe in the kitchen?"

"Uhhh… oh."

"Oh?"

"I … don't' think he made it."

I was shocked. I mean he was just there. Then I remembered that was how death was. Like my Mom or Dr. Jones. They were there, then they were gone. "Damn."

"Hey! No bad words."

"Sorry. How's Dinah?"

"She'll be ok. I'm glad I got those implant in her last night. They should get her fixed up in a few hours."

"Implants?"

"Uh … yeah. I'm a … biotinker." She hurried on. "But I don't tinker on people. That would be wrong. Well, unless they ask me to. And Dinah was really scared with so much bad stuff going on. So she asked me to help make her stronger. And I did. Or at least I started."

"Ok. Ok," I said. Trying to break her out of a panic spiral. "What is going on with Nonie?"

"Ahhh She's … wow!"

"What? What's happening?"

"She's making the table move!"

I decided to move x-ray vision up the schedule. I dropped two charges into boosting my strength and the third into allowing me to see through the debris. Another charge popped, but I held onto it.

Luckily none of the rubble was very dense. Mostly wood and plaster board. I could barely make out what was happening in the kitchen. I don't think I would have been able to see through anything denser.

Nonie was lying mostly under the oak table, her hand was grasping one leg near the floor. The table was glowing and … growing. The legs were lengthening, pushing the table and the pile of debris on top of it up and dropping it behind them. Then the table started walking. It moved towards the back door. She scooted along the floor, her other hand on a glowing chair which was preceding the table, pushing wreckage out of the way.

I could tell when she got to her brother. She cried out, "Nooo!" then collapsed. The table stood silent guard over her.

I guess she has powers too?

"Let me know when you have the ruble secure. I want to get us out of here before more of the house collapses." I ordered.

"Just … one … more … minute … and … NOW!" the young girl cried.

I looked around and saw her spiders had webbed the hanging joists and flooring hanging form the ruins of the second floor and attic. I could only hope the web was strong enough. I lifted and pushed the wreckage off of us, letting it slide to the side. Most of it tumbled out into the yard.

I moved the two girls clear of the house, setting them down against a tree between our two properties. I saw Dad come out. I gestured for him to take care of the girls, but put a finger over my lips, hoping he'd get the message to keep quiet about me.

Then I turned back to the Jones'.

A silver glowing man in featureless armor was digging out the kitchen. It was Sentinel. I watched as he pulled an unconscious Nonie out and brought her towards me. Dad started to back away, then looked at Riley and the helpless Dinah and took two steps forward instead, placing himself between them and the oncoming cape.

Riley ran between us and glommed onto the silver figure. Guess she knows him?

Sentinel set Nonie down and Riley was hovering over her, taking devices out of her backpack. She started examining her babysitter. A moment later she looked up and said, "She'll be fine. I may need to regrow her legs. They were crushed by the debris. But she'll be fine."

In the distance I could hear sirens. Apparently Sentinel could hear them as well. He looked at Riley. He said nothing but she seemed to know what he wanted.

"I'm staying here. I need to take care of Nonie and Dinah. I'll go home later. You should go now."

The faceless silver figure turned to me and stared for a moment, then leapt into the sky, vanishing in an instant. I understood him to mean I was to take better care of Riley, whatever her relation to him, and I had my suspicions.

"Can they be moved?" I asked the twelve year old biotinker.

"Yeah, but where."

"Take them in my house," Dad said. "Quick, while the other neighbors are still hiding."

"I've got them. You stall the PRT." Riley said. I saw her spiders come scurrying out of the destroyed house. Two of them managed to lift Dinah and carry her behind Dad. Riley helped the other two carry Nonie. I saw that she was very carefully supporting my neighbor's broken legs.

I moved back to the site of the explosion. There were the remains of a second car that had pulled up between the PRT SUV and the back door. It must have been carrying the explosives.

Then I saw Lee, or what was left of him. If I had not been pulling people out of bombed buildings for the last two days, the sight of my childhood crush torn apart might have had me retching on my knees. As is, I was just terribly sad to see his life cut short.

Then I noticed the grey case, blasted open a few feet from him. Inside was a glowing set of armor, shield, and a shortened spear.

Lee was Dauntless!

I quickly tossed the case into my own back yard. It landed next to our shed, sliding behind a wheel barrow Dad had not put away in weeks. I had no idea if the people coming knew Lee's secret. The last thing I could do for him was protect his identity, even in death.

A few minute later the police arrived.


	11. Chapter 11

2.5

When I saw it was the police rather than the PRT coming to investigate, I pulled out my PRT phone and called in. "This is Icon. We have a PRT agent, Lee Jones, killed in an explosion at his home. BBPD are on site."

"Understood. Will send PRT response. Unfortunately, we have had at least six agents attacked in the last hour. So …" I could hear fear and uncertainty in the dispatchers tone. The ABB had made this personal.

"Right. I am on site and will give my statement to the BBPD."

"Hold one … You are requested to tell BBPD this is a PRT matter and not, repeat NOT, give a statement. Understood?"

"Not really, but I'll comply."

"Response ETA in fifteen minutes."

"Right. Out." I hung up and approached the police officers. There were two, an older woman and a younger man. Both in riot uniform with ballistic vests and helmets. I was guessing things were not going well for the police either. "I'm Icon, PRT Affiliated hero." I offered my PRT ID.

"Sergeant Gustav," the woman responded. "This is Officer Franklin. What happened here?"

"PRT Control has asked that I inform you this is a PRT investigation. Sorry about that. I thought PRT and BBPD were coordinating on these attacks?"

"Shit." She looked disgusted. "You're new, right?"

I nodded.

"PRT doesn't cooperate with anyone. They order or ignore police all over the country. Piggott's not the worst, but she doesn't like to air PRT problems." Gustav pointed to the half destroyed PRT SUV then to the tarp I had used to cover Lee's body. "This is obviously one of hers and she wants to take care of it in-house."

"At least this means they might get off their asses and actually fight the gang capes," Franklin added. Gustav just nodded. "The one thing guaranteed to get the PRT, or worse the Protectorate, off the pot is an attack on one of their own."

"Is it really that bad?" I asked. I thought the Protectorate and PRT were a little too reactive, but this sounded like something a whole lot worse.

"Hard to tell what they're doing most of the time," Gustav said. "Maybe they're fighting secret battles that we never hear about. But look around. The gangs have controlled this city for more than a decade, at least since the Marquis, with the PRT and their heroes sitting out in the Bay behind their force field the whole time."

I nodded, not sure how to respond.

"Anyway, if the PRT are claiming this, then it's your crime scene. We'll leave you to it." the older woman motioned for her junior to get back in the cruiser. "It not like there aren't enough others around the city. Damned ABB."

I waved as they drove away. _How much of that was just frustration or interagency rivalry?_ I wondered. In the media, they always played up the rivalry between local police and federal agents, whether FBI or PRT. I'd have to do some research, especially as I was planning on joining the Protectorate. Maybe I needed to take a closer look at my other options.

I called Dad while waiting for the PRT. It seemed silly not to just go over to the house, but I didn't want to leave the scene unguarded and I didn't want Icon to be too closely associated with the Heberts.

"Hello?" I could tell he did not recognize the number of my official phone.

"Mr. Hebert, this is Icon. I am just checking on the status of your guests."

"Ah … Let me let you talk to Dinah."

"Icon?" she sounded better than I expected. I wondered about the implants Riley had mentioned.

"Yes. How are you Dinah?"

"I'm pretty much ok. Riley is working on Nonie. She says she'll be up and walking in about forty minutes. She wants you to stall the police and asks that you keep our powers secret. We're not ready to come out as heroes yet. Nonie too, though she can't talk for herself yet, so we are assuming."

I thought quickly. Untruths dealing with secret identities were about the only acceptable deceptions in the old comic books and there was a lot of chatter about the unwritten rules on PHO. Senior Agent McCloud had mentioned the importance of keeping cape identities secret when I registered, not wanting me to automatically out any capes I arrested. And I had already acted to maintain Lee's secret. "Yeah, alright. I'll do what I can. Not sure how effective it will be, but I'll try."

"Thanks, Icon. I told Riley we could count on you," Dinah gushed.

Just then Armsmaster arrived on his bike, followed by three PRT vehicles. Miss Militia got out of one. I wasn't surprised the Protectorate leaders would come to investigate the death of one of their team. "Alright, the Protectorate is here. I have to go."

Armsmaster removed the tarp and examined Lee. I looked away, sniffing. Miss Militia approached. "Icon. I understand you reported this. How soon after the attack did you arrive on scene?"

"I was here when the attack happened. Miss Jones, Agent Jones' sister was assisting me in my investigation. We were in the house when Agent Jones returned home. Before he could enter the house another vehicle …" I pointed to the destroyed car. "… drove into the driveway and detonated. I could not see the vehicle or its driver from my position, but did hear it."

"Where is Miss Jones?" I could detect the concern in her voice. I assumed the hero knew her teammate's sister.

"She, along with the two minors who had accompanied us, are resting at the neighbor, Mr. Hebert's house." I pointed to my house. "I think she saw her brother killed and is in a bit of shock. While I was digging myself and the two girls out of the wreckage, Sentinel appeared to dig Miss Jones out, then disappeared."

"Sentinel? Can you tell me about him?"

"Not really," I said. "Tall, silvery, no face. Super strong. Silent. After he freed Miss Jones he looked over the rest of us, then leapt into the sky and … gone. I didn't even see which way he went."

"Alright," she said, pulling out a tablet and setting it to record. "Let's go over this from the beginning."

After I gave my statement, she asked some clarifying questions. I drew it out as well as I could, giving lots of details, while avoiding mention of the powers of the others involved."

"You were able to see through the fallen debris?" she asked at one point.

"Yes, I added x-ray vision as a new power during the event. It was relatively weak while boosted. Now it is almost non-existent. It will take at least nine more charges to get to what it was, more to be really useful."

She shook her head. "I see. Please go on."

Several minutes later Armsmaster joined us. He had me go over the basics again. After I did, he looked at me closely. I wondered why. "Why did you come here as part of your investigation. What were you investigating?"

"I was trying to find Bakuda's bomb lab," I replied. "She has to be producing these devices somewhere. My understanding is that a tinker needs a lab. As for why I came here, I am limited in how much I can divulge as it involves the secret identity of a cape."

He jumped on that. "Which cape?"

"One that does not have a masked identity at this point." I answered, realizing he thought I meant Dauntless. "But she has powers that might help me in finding the lab. And, as I already know her identity, she is willing to assist me."

Both of the Protectorate heroes examined me silently for several seconds. I forced myself not to fidget.

"I wish you were currently in the Protectorate so I could order you to divulge your source." Armsmaster's voice was scary intense. Miss Militia laid her hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, nodded, and then walked away.

"Uh ..." I started, not sure what to say.

"He is very upset," she tried to reassure me. "There is more going on here that you are aware of." She looked around. "If you'll take me to the neighbor, I'd like to talk with Miss Jones. Perhaps she can tell us more about the attack vehicle."

I nodded and took her to the house. It was very strange to knock on my own door. Dad answered. He could not stop staring at Miss Militia. I worked hard to keep the grin off my face.

"Mr. Hebert," I made the introduction. "Miss Militia would like a few words with Miss Jones. Is she able to answer questions at this time?"

"Please call me Danny. Nonie is over on the couch. I think she's ready to talk."

He led us into the living room. Nonie was laid out on the couch, a blanket over her and a steaming drink on the coffee table next to her. There was still blood in her hair and scratches on her face. But her eyes were open and she was tracking us. I felt a shot of relief when I saw her. She was a longtime friend of the family, even if we had not been close in the last few years. I had lost one such friend today. I was delighted not to lose another.

"Miss Jones, I am Miss Militia of the Protectorate. I have a few questions about what happened today."

Dad and I listened as the hero gently walked Nonie through the events. Nonie never mentioned anything about a walking table. She did put a quiet stress on the fact that Lee was carrying his case when the car exploded. She said she only got a second's view of the driver. He was an older East Asian man. She confirmed that she had seen Lee caught in the blast and had checked his body afterwards. That was the end of the questions as Nonie collapsed. Miss Militia tried to comfort her, but it was Dad that eventually got her quieted.

The Protectorate hero motioned for me to follow her out of the house. As we walked to the street I looked back in time to catch a glimpse of a small face peering from my bedroom window. It disappeared almost immediately. _So they were hiding upstairs_, I thought.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about this incident?" Miss Militia asked.

"When I called this in the PRT dispatcher said there had been other attacks on PRT agents?"

"Yes. Several were apparently followed home when they went off-shift. Car bombs were used in seven separate incidents, of which this is one. The ABB broke the rules. This is going to come back on them hard." I saw her energy construct shifting into weapons I was not familiar with, but which looked really dangerous. She had not been quite this disturbed at yesterday's big meeting. I wondered of the police sergeant was right. They only got serious when their own were attacked?

I flew away, only to return ten minutes later, having changed back into Taylor. When I approached our house a PRT agent stopped me until I showed him my ID that had my address on it. He looked at the house number then let me go though. As was my normal practice, I entered the house through the back door.

Dad gave me a big hug. Nonie was still on the couch. I rushed up to her and took her hand. "I'm so sorry about Lee. Are you alright?"

"Oh Taylor …" I held her as she cried.

Dinah and Riley came down and Nonie introduced us. I waved.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. I have to get something."

I went down to the basement, grabbed a large box and half-filled it with miscellaneous junk. As they all watched me, I carried it out to the shed. Right before I got there I stumbled, dropping the box, and spilling its contents on the ground. Quickly I refilled it, using my enhanced reflexes to hide the grey case at the bottom. I continued into the shed and closed the door behind me.

I quickly transferred the contents of the case, Dauntless' armor, boots, shield, and lance into a different box, covering them with different junk. I got a bit of a shock when I picked up the lance. It started to spark and I could feel my power reaching out to it. I dropped it before it became too noticeable. I used gloves to touch the rest of the gear.

As a PRT agent watched, I carried the new box back into the house.

"What was that all about?" Dad asked me quietly, looking at the junk I had brought in.

"Something I have to show Nonie. It's … her secret to share, not mine."

"Ok. I'll take the girls upstairs?"

"Yeah. That would be good. Maybe you can show them Mom's comics? I loved them when I was their age."

"Wasn't that just last week?" He asked with a cheeky grin. I bumped him gently.

While he took the girls upstairs I put Dauntless' gear in a clean opaque plastic box with a built in lid, cushioned by kitchen towels. I brought it into the living room. Dad had already closed the curtains to cut us off form the investigators sight. Or maybe he was hiding the ruins from Nonie.

"What's that?" my old babysitter asked.

"It's … well, I guess it's yours now." I set the box on the coffee table where she could see it easily and opened it.

She gasped, then looked at me. "How?"

"Don't freak out," I said. She nodded. I turned into Icon. She gasped.

"Are you really Taylor?"

"Yeah. It's me." I turned back. "I found this in the wreckage. I didn't want anyone who didn't already know to find out Lee's secret. I'm guessing he … was Dauntless?"

She nodded as she reached out to touch his helmet. It began to glow at her touch. I smiled. "It looks like it likes you."

She looked at me, her eyes wide. "What … what do you mean?"

"I'm guessing that as his sister, you can probably use his gear." I said. Pointing to the shortened lance I gestured, "Pick it up."

Gingerly, she did. It sparked then energy began to flow off of it, like in all the pictures of her brother in action.

We both heard a gasp behind us. We turned and found Riley peeking around the stairs. "No way!" she cried.

"What?" Dinah demanded, coming around the corner, followed by Dad who looked like he could not quite bring himself to physically stop the two girls.

"Sorry …" he was saying when he too saw Nonie with the energized arclance. "Whoa."

I facepalmed. _So much for keeping secrets._


	12. Chapter 12

2.6

"Shit, shit, shit!" I cursed.

"Language!" Riley and Nonie scolded simultaneously. Dinah and Dad just laughed.

"I think there may be too many secrets here," Nonie said, putting down the lance. "Will everyone promise to keep everyone else's secrets?"

Each person looked at the others in the room, judging them. "I know everyone here pretty well, except for Dinah," Nonie continued. "I trust them all. And Riley and Taylor trust Dinah. So, I trust her too."

"Why would you trust me?" Dinah asked me. "We haven't even met officially."

I sighed, made sure the curtains were closed and turned into Icon.

"Oh …" Dinah responded.

"Cool!" added Riley. "We're all heroes!" She turned to Dad. "Are you a hero too? Are you? If not, do you want to be? I can help with that, but only if you wanted me to."

"You're all capes?" Dad asked looking at the four of us.

"Um … I'm not sure I am," Nonie said. "These were Lee's. He's Dauntless. Was Dauntless …"

I sat next to her and hugged her. "You're definitely a cape. I saw you animating your dinner table.

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.

I looked around the room until I spotted one of Mom's crystal figurines. It was a giraffe about four inches tall. I grabbed it and placed it on the table in front of Nonie. "Touch this and try to make it move." I had no idea if her powers worked that way, but she should be able to figure them out pretty quickly.

She reached out and laid a finger on the top of the figure's head. There was a spark and the figure began to walk across the table. It also started to grow. It stopped at a foot tall, about three times its original size. Then it shrank back down, but the neck elongated and wrapped around Nonie's wrist. After a few minutes it shrank back to normal and stopped glowing.

"Yeah, definitely a cape," Dad muttered.

The two girls were bouncing around. "Do it again! That's soo cuuute."

"Can you charge your brother's gear?" I asked.

She reached out and laid a hand on the armor. It sparked a bit, shuddered in the box, but nothing else. She looked to me. "I can animate it, but I don't see any way I can add a charge like he can ..."

"I bet it will work for you," I said reverting to Taylor to better comfort her. "But you can look at that later."

"Oh … I'll be right back! Come on, Dinah!" Riley grabbed her backpack and pulled Dinah up the stairs.

A few minutes later a figure crawled along the ceiling of the stairwell and scampered down the wall. It was dressed in a bulky costume of grey silk with a mottled black carapace. Its head was encased in a shell and it had four spindly legs sprouting from a lump on its back. The only reason I suspected it was Riley was the golden ringlets flowing out behind the mask. That and she started giggling as soon as we saw her. Several small spider-bots and bugs were following her along the ceiling and walls.

Next to her was Dinah in an outfit made from the same silky material as the base of Riley's costume, but in silver with black, vaguely spiderlike markings. It lacked the hardened armor pieces or the face shell. Instead she had a half-face cowl and hood made of the same material as the rest of the costume.

"Ta da!" Riley said spreading her arms, all six of them. "We are Weaver and Spinner. I mean we will be, when we're finished with our costumes and Dinah's implants."

"Ta da?" Dinah sounded a lot less sure.

"Wow!" Dad said.

"Riley!" Nonie said. "What about your father? What's he going to say?"

"He's not happy about it, but he's not gonna stop me," she replied, her voice serious. "This is important to me and he knows it. He just made me promise not to join the Wards."

"What? Why not?" Nonie sounded shocked. "Don't you want to be a hero?"

"Yeah, but the Wards aren't the only way," the six-armed tween replied. "Maybe not even the best way. Most of what they do is public relation photo ops or meet and greets. They don't really do much heroing."

Nonie was thoughtful for a moment.

"Besides, now we have enough heroes to make our own team – Girl Power!" Riley struck a silly heroic pose, hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Dinah tried to copy her with a much quieter "Girl power …"

Dad fell down laughing. I was really tempted to zap him.

"I don't know about that," I said. "And if we were to form a team, I think we can come up with something less exclusive or ageist. Maybe the Guardians or something."

"Yeah!" Riley agreed. "The Brockton Bay Guardians!" She struck another pose. Dinah mimicked her with more alacrity.

"I said if," I stressed. "We don't need to make any decisions right now. But we do need to contact your father and we need to …" I looked at Nonie. She looked towards her house and her face fell. "Nonie is gonna need all our attention for a while." I ended quietly.

Dad went to his desk and started looking through some files.

"Taylor?" Dinah spoke up. "I think you and I need to do what we were going to try with the map. The bombs have to be stopped so this doesn't happen to anyone else."

I looked to Nonie. Dad stood behind her and handed her a folder. I could see it was from a funeral home.

"This is the place that took care of Annie and your father. Lee helped me make arrangements for Annie and I helped him with your father. I'll help you do the same. Your brother was a good man, even without knowing he was a hero. He was my friend. Please let me help."

"Thanks Danny," Nonie whispered, then started sobbing quietly in my father's arms. Riley stepped out of her costume, it somehow just peeled away from her, came over, and cuddled against her caretaker.

Dinah and I went into the kitchen. I found an old city map in one of the junk drawers, along with some twine and pushpins. We laid out the map and sectioned it off. Dinah was able to answer four questions which narrowed Bakuda's location to a square that made up about a sixteenth of the city's area. Less actually, as much of the map was taken up by the Bay.

The segment to be searched included parts of the Docks, South Docks, and the Trainyard area. There was still a lot of area to cover, but it was a start.

"Thanks, Dinah. This is really helpful. I am going to take this to the PRT. Maybe we can concentrate a number of people searching the area. A group of heroes should find her more quickly than me searching on my own."

"You're welcome, but you should call me Spinner. I'm still in costume." She smiled.

"Ok. Thanks Spinner."

I left the house as Taylor, jogging into the distance. When I reached a safe place, I changed and flew to the PRT Building. Deputy Director Renick was back in charge of the command center. I approached him about my intel.

"I'm sorry. We just don't have any forces to put towards the search right now. With the attacks on our Agents all our manpower is going into security. We can try to arrange a few cape sweeps in the area. But if we were to send out PRT assets, we risk them being defeated in detail. We are going to concentrate our forces in reserve, until we have confirmation of an ABB site, then we can attack in overwhelming force."

"But how are you finding the sites to attack?"

"I'm sorry. I can't divulge that. Operational security, you understand. As an Affiliate, there are limits to how much of our intel or methods we can share. Now if you were willing to join full-time …"

"Not at this time, Mr. Renick. Thank you. I will be following up on this lead myself. I'll contact you with any, uh, actionable intelligence."

I was not a happy camper when I left the building. Were the police officers right? Were the PRT and Protectorate purely defensive? If I were a member, what would I be doing right now? Sitting in the Rig waiting in reserve? Guarding City Hall? Maybe I should approach New Wave. Manpower and Lady Photon were pretty cool and Glory Girl doesn't seem the type to sit in reserve. But I'd never heard they had any enhanced senses. Nothing other than their presence that would make it easier to find the bad guys.

I decided not to approach them yet. I sort of wanted to try this by myself. Supergirl seldom worked with a team. Even Superman and Wonder Woman spent more time working alone that with the Justice League. I spent a little time mapping out a search pattern over the section of the city Dinah, I mean Spinner, mapped out.

Flying over I saw the area was a mix of apartments, businesses, small factories, and warehouses. There were deserted zones and busy streets over dozens of square miles. This was not going to be easy.

I checked my charges. It sounds odd, but sometimes I'm too tied up in what's happening in the outside world that I don't notice when a charge popped. Checking my memory, I saw a charge popped soon after I spent my reserve during the collapse. A second charge popped when I was confronting Armsmaster. It still amazed me that social conflict can pop charges on rare occasion. Makes me wonder if that conversation was more dangerous than I realized.

As I flew over the area I knew I needed more senses. I dropped one charge into super-vision, boosting all my vision powers, though less than if I had targeted just one. I had to save the last charge, just in case I ran into Oni Lee, or worse, Lung.

I spent the rest of the day looking for any sign of ABB concentration or secret bases. I looked for sentries on rooftops or hidden in doorways and alleys. There were a lot of people on the streets. Likely some of them were ABB, but I couldn't really tell. After a couple of hours, I started looking for places I could hide yet still see the streets. I memorized the locations of several. I decided I would comeback after dark and see if that made any difference. When I got my nightly charge, I would drop it into super-vision. Eventually I would be able to scan the buildings or notice important details form further away.

Something had to lead me to Bakuda.

"How did it go?" Dad asked when I came home for dinner. Nonie and the girls were back at Riley's house. Or maybe Nonie was back at BBSU. She lived in the dorm there, though I don't know the status of the school after the bombing.

"Not great. The PRT and Protectorate are just sitting tight as far as I can tell. They didn't want to follow up on Dinah's lead. So, I'm looking on my own." I finished eating and started washing the dishes. "I'm heading back out tonight. Don't know what to do about tomorrow."

"Well, you're in luck. All area schools are closed for at least the first two days of the week. That gives you a little more time."

"That's great."

"You might want to also give some thought to that social question you were asking about before you go back to school. If that new girl, or the boy, is going to be trying to make friends."

"Yeah them. You know, she really had some nerve ragging on my like that. I don't even know her."

"Yeah, it sounds like she was pretty harsh. But she did apologize later, right? Maybe she wanted the guy to ask her out instead and was mad you didn't even notice what he was doing. And from the guy perspective, it does take a lot of courage to ask out a girl cold like that. Not a lot of smarts, but some guts."

"Well I'm not ready to deal with that situation yet."

"What does it say that you'd rather go look for a murderous mad bomber than think about making a new friend in high school."

"I'm just smart like that," I said and left before he could answer.

Despite my best efforts, and another charge dropped into my senses, I had no luck that night.

The next day was not much better.

In the morning I flew to Riley's house. Dinah and Nonie were still there. I met Dr. Havisham, a quiet older gentleman. He must have had Riley late in life. There was no sign of her mother. I knew how that was.

I had brought the map and other needed implements. Dinah was able to reduce the search area significantly.

I took the information to the PRT. They were still uninterested. I went to New Wave's public address. They were more polite, but also not willing to change their guard activities on an unknown's information. They did give me a little recruiting pitch, given I was already unmasked. I thought their timing was suspect.

The worst thing was while I was searching the target neighborhood a little girl reading on a tenement roof exploded as I was looking at her. She just … poof! It wasn't even a normal explosion. A wave of purple energy swept out, and there were screams of agony from people in the top three floors of the building. I called in the first responders and started trying to move people to the relative safety of the street. By the time I had gotten to some of them, they were dead. Their hearts had given out in most cases. In others, they had found a way to make the pain end on their own. Three hours later, and a debriefing with Armsmaster on the new bomb type and I went home exhausted in mind and heart.

Another bad day.


	13. Chapter 13

2.7

Word was out that schools would be starting again tomorrow. That meant this was the last full day I could devote to searching for Bakuda until the weekend. I really wanted to find her and thought I was getting close last night.

I made my way to Riley's. She and Dinah were still eating breakfast when I arrived. Dr. Havisham had already left for work. "Dinah, before we do anything else, I wanted to double check that you are still safe from the kidnappers here."

"There is only a 7.757% chance of being successfully kidnapped this week, even if I go home. Which my parents say I have to as there's school tomorrow. I think the chances of a successful attempt are going down as Riley adds more enhancements to me. Right now I think I could take out a couple of those mooks by myself, even without the Spinner gear."

"I'm making a new costume for you too," Riley told me. "From what I can tell, your suit is basically spandex. My modified spider silk should add significant damage resistance with no extra weight. It will look the same too. I should have it ready tomorrow or the next day."

I was pleasantly surprised. "That's very thoughtful of you. My current costume is created by my power, but I should be able to adjust that to create your costume instead. Might take a charge or two, but the advantage is worth it. Thanks."

"Shall we get to the map? Riley's treatments have helped decrease the pain generated by frequent use of my power. That means I can answer more questions each day. Maybe we can pinpoint her lab this time."

We got out the map and set to work. Unfortunately, the answers were not what we wanted.

"What is the chance that Bakuda moved her lab since yesterday?" I wanted to make sure we were ok started on the same section of the map we had been working from.

"98.091%" Dinah answered.

"Crap, she moved," I said. Riley frowned at my language. "I must have gotten too close yesterday. Maybe when the girl exploded?"

"I guess we start again," Dinah said.

"I am going to gamble that she did not move too far." I pointed to the quadrant of the map she had been in. "What is the chance that Bakuda's current lab is in this quadrant of the City?"

"92.813%"

I set a line bisecting the quadrant and pointed towards the half further inland. "What is the chance that Bakuda's current lab is in this section of the quadrant?"

"8.572%"

Dinah pushed herself to answer two more questions, narrowing the likely location to a couple of square miles. I saw her involuntary wince and immediately stopped. "You need to be more careful. Don't push yourself on these. Even if you are reducing the pain, it may still be doing damage."

"You're right, but I want to get her."

"We will," Riley added.

I bid the girls a good day and went out to the Docks. I wanted to look a little closer at the area where the explosion had been last night. I wanted to see I could find her abandoned lab. Maybe there would be some clue that would help me find were she had moved.

I flew to the previous site. My flight speed had increased somewhat. I was measuring it as 40 mph now. I only had one charge in reserve, and decided to keep it there for now.

When I got to the semi-destroyed tenement I started looking closely at nearby buildings. After several minutes of searching I found a former meat wholesaler with evidence of recent usage. There were several food wrappers and piles of cigarette butts outside the entrance. The doors on the ground floor were locked, but the roof access was not.

I let myself in and found that the giant freezer room showed signs of recent use and the removal of equipment. There were a number of papers scattered on the floor along with discarded bits of wiring, circuit boards, and other technological detritus.

I started looking at them for any clues. As I squatted reading half a bill of lading I felt a change in air pressure and heard a quiet pop. I half-rolled, half-flew forward as a grenade flashed into a ball of fire where I had been.

Oni Lee was standing on the other side of the room.

"You don't have to do this, you know?" I said. "Surrender and no one has to get hurt."

He doubled to appear next to the door. He dropped something that created a block of ice, sealing the exit. Then he was back where he started.

He appeared over me and dropped two grenades, his body falling along with them. I zapped the body with my arcblast. When it dusted, so did the grenades.

He fired a machine pistol at me. I dodged some rounds and soaked the others. I tried to zap him but her reappeared in another corner.

He threw a pair of grenade, which I batted back towards him with a plank torn from the floor. I threw the plank at him, but he was already gone.

This went on, back and forth with no advantage gained for several minutes.

_Crap_! _This was not a great match up. I'd almost rather fight Lung. _

My accelerated cognition kicked in.

_I was faster than him and any one of my attacks could take him down … _

_His line of sight teleport meant that I was never facing the real villain … _

_It took him a fraction of second to teleport, leaving his duplicate behind … _

_If I could grab him in that fraction of a second … _

_He would teleport away …_

_If I covered his eyes he could not teleport …_

_Tried that, didn't work. Too slow …_

_If I could stop him without covering his eyes …_

_Immediate knockout blow..._

_Might accidentally hurt/kill …_

_Power negation …_

_Not strong enough …_

_Boost with charge …_

I dropped my reserve charge into my power negation touch and waited.

_He's gonna try the swarm attack …_

He appeared in front of me and my hand flashed out as fast as I could move. I barely brushed against him but I felt my trump ability lock on.

His eyes flicked over my shoulder as he readied to pull two grenades from his bandoleer. Then he grunted. His eyes turned to me as he tried to step back.

I grabbed him with my other hand and pulsed my taser touch. He jerked with the current flowing through him. I gave him another pulse and his knees gave way. I maintained my grip and tasered him one more time.

After that a bandage from my belt first aid kit made a nifty blindfold. Finally I zip-tied his wrists and ankles, just to be sure.

Three charges popped. I kept them in reserve.

After three minutes the supercharge on my trump power wore off. I double checked the villain's bonds and called in the arrest.

I continued searching the location while I waited for the PRT to come take Oni Lee off my hands. He refused to answer any of my questions. I wasn't certain he understood English. Nothing in the building gave a concrete lead. I saw that Bakuda had tapped into the industrial electrical outlets. So I figured any building she moved to would need a good power supply. Thick walls to suppress sound. No, or limited, windows. Truck access.

It was more than I had before, but nothing I could not have figured out if I had bothered to think about it. I had to remember that even the strongest heroes used their brains.

After debriefing Velocity, who had accompanied the PRT agents to pick up Oni Lee, I flew to the area Dinah had indicated contained the new location of Bakuda's lab. I didn't bother telling the PRT about it as they had not wanted to know the past two days. NO reason to assume that would change now.

The day was another bust. I did manage to stop a mugging and a purse snatcher, both of which got some cheers from the frightened public, but nothing leading to the bomber.

I returned home to find Nonie crying on Dad's shoulder.

"Hey! What's going on?" I asked.

"Those bastards!" she spat.

"Who?" I asked.

"The PRT" Dad replied. "They're refusing to release Lee's body to the funeral home."

"They want to have some sort of official show funeral for Dauntless," Nonie added. She sounded more angry that distraught now. "It doesn't matter what his only remaining family wants. Even his ex-wife wants to have a private service. But the fucking PRT want to make it into some sort of public relations spectacle."

"They've been getting roasted in the media over losing a Protectorate cape," Dad said more calmly, though I could hear the tension in his tone. "I guess they think that playing the funeral for sympathy will help them boost morale somehow."

"They're still tearing up what's left of the house too." Nonie started stomping around the room. "They've been asking about his armor and gear. I think they're looking for it in the wreckage. I still haven't told them I have it. Damn it, they know it's useless for them. Lee told me that they had tried everything to get someone else be able to use his gear, but it never worked. I guess it works for me because I'm his sister."

I knew it would work for me as well, but did not tell her that. She was his family and deserved his legacy, not me or the Protectorate.

"That's not right," I said. "Can they do that? I mean legally. Don't you have a right to make these decisions, as next of kin?"

"They say it is in his contract as a Protectorate hero," Dad said.

"In the eventuality of his death, the PRT has the right to determine the disposition of his remains," Nonie read from a piece of official looking paper. "Fucking PRT!"

"That's not right," I repeated, mostly to myself.

I had been considering whether I should sign on with the Protectorate. Their reactions to the current crisis were not showing them in the best light. But this … this was just wrong. Not the actions of heroes at all. Maybe it was the PRT bureaucrats rather than the heroes in the Protectorate. But at this point I was not seeming much daylight between the two organizations.

Maybe that was it. There were some good people, good heroes on the team, but as individuals they were under the orders of a vast government bureaucracy. That had to limit their choices and actions. I don't think I wanted to be a hero under those conditions.

"Is there anything we can do?" I asked.

"I could go to the media," Nonie said. "But that would out Lee and put a target on me as his sister. You know I was thinking of following in his footsteps in the Protectorate. Using his gear and my powers to sort of take his place. As a tribute to him. But now … now I want to do what Riley suggested and form a team outside the PRT, just to spite them."

"But is it a good idea to make that sort of decision on the advice of a twelve-year-old?" Dad asked reasonably. "Even a really smart one?"

"I don't know," Nonie sighed.

"I don't either," I said. "I'm not real happy with them either. But it takes resources to run a team. Resources we don't really have. I'm not saying no. But we need to think about it in realistic terms."

Even the Avengers had Stark's money and the Justice League had the Wayne fortune behind them. We had nothing like that. But was that enough of a reason not to try?

That night I was back near the Docks, looking for Bakuda. No luck. I was getting really frustrated.

And tomorrow it was back to school.


	14. Chapter 14

2.8

I saw Kay when I got on the bus. I still had not decided what to do about her.

I thought she was trying to push herself into my life. But that might not be a bad thing. I had no friends, or really even friendly acquaintances, at Winslow. Hanging with Nonie and the girls over the last few days had showed me friends could be a good thing.

Looking at her blue hair and odd clothes I thought she was crying out for attention. Her pushy personality seemed to fit with that as well. I wasn't sure she was the person with whom I wanted to restart my school social life. I waved at her but took a seat elsewhere, pulling out my biology book as an excuse not to have to deal with her yet.

"Hey," Kay said as we walked into the school. I noticed the metal detectors were still broken. They had not worked for most of the year. "Can Arun and I talk with you at lunch? We both sort of wanted to start again. Maybe get to know a bit about the woman behind the mystery that is Taylor Hebert? And show you that we are not really the tools we seemed like last Friday?"

I thought for a moment. I had to start somewhere. What would Supergirl do? "Sure. That sounds great." I smiled.

She smiled back and moved off into the crowd. I continued to my locker.

Watching the people in the halls between classes that morning was quite the education. Of the kids I observed, a full third seemed to be showing some sort of gang affiliation. Not all white kids were E88, nor all Asians ABB. The Merchants only had a small representation, mostly among the stoner set, and even there it was not the majority. Still the numbers surprised me.

I could also tell that the tensions, especially between the skinheads and the bad boys, was particularly high. This shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. Once again, I was assuming that what there was some impermeable divide between school and the real world. That was obviously not the case.

After second period I spotted Arun being pushed against the wall by a large boy in a football letter jacket and blond crewcut. He was almost an archetype of the bullying jock.

Not wanting to risk revealing my powers, I decided against physically confronting the bully, whose name I recalled as Bruno Beck. Instead, I pulled out my phone and started recording the incident. I made sure the LED light was lit so that everyone in the corridor would notice me and my camera. In no time it worked.

"Hey! What the fuck?" the almost skinhead bellowed as he turned towards me. He still held Arun against the wall, but his grip seemed to be loosening.

"I'm just making sure your flushing any chance you have of ever getting a sports scholarship is recorded for posterity." I wasn't certain he understood what I was saying, but I was playing for the crowd and camera more than him.

"Stop it," he ordered, taking a step towards me. He seemed confused as to whether he should continue towards me or maintain his grip on Arun. He couldn't easily do both. But he decided to try. He dragged the smaller boy down the hall as he marched towards me, his purpose plain on his face.

Arun was attempting to wriggle free of the fist clutching his hoodie. "Run Taylor!' he cried. I thought it nice of him to worry about my welfare but wished he hadn't given the Nazi wannabe my name.

"Give me that!" Bruno grabbed at my phone with his free hand.

I danced back, careful to stay just out of his reach, but close enough to keep him chasing me. "I don't think so. I think this will look great on the net. You're about to be famous!"

"Gimme the fuckin phone!" He tossed Arun at me. I managed to pocket my phone, catch the Indian boy with one arm, and use his momentum to spin us both in a wild circle. My backpack slipped down my arm and I happened to smack the encroaching Bruno in the head with it as we continued our spin. Finally, Arun and I started collapsing to the floor, though we were still spinning. This meant his legs caught Bruno in the back of his knees, causing the jock to collapse along with us.

In the end somehow Arun and I ended up on top of Bruno, who was stunned from hitting his head on the water fountain as we fell.

I let Arun help me up. "Thanks," I said as I knelt back down to double check Bruno for any serious injuries. His pupils were tracking and there was no blood so I hoped he would be ok. "Looks like he'll be alright."

"We should get out of here," Arun suggested.

"Yeah," I pulled out my phone. "I've got to get this on the net then sent the link to the principal and school board. Can't have bullies getting away with this shit."

"Man, he's going to kill me. Even worse than he was before. He said I was ABB, just because I'm Asian." Arun grumbled as we crossed the courtyard to the admin wing. He turned to me, "That was great though. How did you do that?"

I pantomimed bench-pressing weights. "Just … you know … working out."

"Wow, just wow."

After uploading the video to PopVids, I sent a link to Mr. Henry, the new Principal, and to Arun, after he gave me his number. "You should report this now, show him the video, and let him know you sent it to your parents.

"It won't do any good," he said sadly.

"Give the system a chance," I replied. "If they screw it up with this sort of evidence, we can look at other avenues. Everybody should do this. Most people have phones with cameras. If we all record the violence and distributed it publicly, they can't say it didn't happen. They have to do something."

"Body-cams for the win?"

"Something like that. I've got to get to class. Good luck." I waved as a rushed off. It was up to him now. If he needed more help, I'd see what I could do.

Lunch was preempted by a full-on brawl between ABB and E88 adherents. Tables were smashed. Some of the food warmers were overturned. And the salad bar would never be the same again. I was recoding around the edges while trying to make sure none of the spectators became involuntary participants. Eventually the biggest teachers and bravest security guards managed to get the sides separated and most of the combatants pulled away for discipline. Later I heard sirens as police came to handle the issue.

That evening I contacted Dinah before starting my search. She let me know that Bakuda had moved again during the day. She gave me a new map section to comb. I also got word from the PRT that the bombings had increased in frequency. They assumed it was in retaliation for the capture of Oni Lee, which I'd noticed on the net they were taking most of the credit for.

_'__Protectorate heroes, assisted by local independents, had taken the treacherous Oni Lee into custody yesterday morning. This was expected to be the next step in stopping the ABB rampage …'_

I rolled my eyes. I supposed Velocity _had_ taken the villain into custody, after I had captured him. I wasn't in the hero thing for the publicity, and the Protectorate could use a little boost. I decided to not worry about it.

On the good PRT side, Dad let me know that Director Piggott had personally contacted Nonie and told her that _"… the PRT would, of course, release Lee's remains to his family if she did not want them used in the memorial service they were holding to publicly honor their fallen hero, as is tradition." _

I called Nonie to talk.

"… she said that the earlier refusal was a misunderstanding in the public relations department, with the staff member at fault being properly disciplined." I could tell what she thought of that canard. Nonie continued, "She told me 'On an unrelated note' that they were still looking for Dauntless' armor and weapons. They'd have to continue to search the bomb site until they found some evidence of them."

After a moment she went on, "Lee was really proud of being a member of the Protectorate, even though he got frustrated with them sometimes. I think he would want the full official honors. I mean we can still arrange a closed casket service for Lee separate from the official memorial. It would look really odd if we didn't, I guess. But I am keeping his gear. I need _something_ to remember him by."

"That makes sense. Let Dad know and he'll move forward with the arrangements." I offered. This was different from … Mom.

That night's search was mostly uneventful and certainly fruitless. I did catch sight of two of Kaiser's crew, Victor and Othala. They looked to be doing the same thing I was, searching for signs of the ABB. That did _not_ bode well. On my way back home in the early morning I spotted and stopped a couple of Merchants accosting a nurse just off shift from Grace General. Afterwards I suggested he might want to keep to the better lit streets at that time of night. As I left him at the bus stop, I considered, not for the first, time that Brockton Bay had more in common with Gotham than Metropolis or even Spiderman's New York.

Maybe Supergirl was not the best role model. But I thought of my Mother telling me that one bright person could make a difference in a dark world. I didn't want to be a dark knight. I wanted to be a shining hope. I'd just have to get stronger to shine brighter.

That morning I was still concentrating on what I would need to find Bakuda. I dropped two charges, one into Mover and one into Thinker, leaving two in reserve.

"Hey Taylor," Kay greeted me on the bus Thursday morning. "Can we try lunch again?"

"If the cafeteria isn't working, we can try the courtyard or the Art room." I suggested.

"The Art room, I think. I'll tell Arun."

"Alright."

"So how are you doing on the essay for Gladhandy?" Kay snickered at her dull witticism. I grimaced but answered.

We talked. It was nothing important or too personal. We just chatted. I could tell how out of practice I was, but she wasn't a lot better at it. She just said a lot more. We continued chatting until we got into the building and separated.

After Homeroom there was an unscheduled assembly. People were wondering what it was about as they poured through the halls and into the auditorium. Through force of habit, I took a seat in the back row, as close to a door as I could. It started as a tactical consideration, not wanting to be trapped by the Trio. They were gone, but the habit remained. There were fewer students than normal, leaving the hall only three quarters full. I was alone in the back, with the closest person sitting at least three rows forward and two dozen seats over.

"Can I have your attention …" Mr. Henry, a middle sized, middle aged African-American administrator dressed in a gray suit, called out.

The mike on the podium was not amplifying his voice. He tried again, switching the microphone on and off. The school tech assistant rushed forward. When he moved the Principal aside to look at the back of the podium the techie screamed and jumped back. He managed to knock the podium around, displaying the obvious bomb with all its flashing lights set into the base of the wooden stand.

Everyone freaked. I started thinking quick time.

_Protect the people …_

_Protect my secret identity …_

_No one is looking my way …_

_They are starting to turn …_

_Get out of sight and change …_

I dived behind the row of seats, right up against the back wall. While completely blocked from view I changed. Flying across the sticky flooring I popped up at the other end of the back row. A student was pounding at the double doors, but they weren't opening. I gave the door a back kick as I took off over the heads of the oncoming crowd.

I flew to the podium. The teachers and staff were running just as fast as the students. I took one look at the mechanism in the stand. It was speaking!

"This is a talking bomb … 27 … 26 … you really shouldn't have fucked with the ABB! … 15 … 14 …" I grabbed the whole podium and flew straight up. I dropped both reserve charges into super strength. I power-punched the roof, breaking though the concrete and steel. Pushing my flight to wring out every inch of speed, I climbed.

" … gonna fuck you up … 7 … 6 …"

Not trusting the timer, I hauled back and heaved the fifty-pound weight with all my boosted strength. It soared upwards. I reversed and dived towards the distant ground.

Behind me I heard a massive zap! Like the world's biggest bug lamp had just ended all Riley's swarms at once. I felt agonizing pins and needles flowing down from my feet, despite my energy resistance. Seconds later the sensation cut off as a tremendous 'CRACK!' sounded.

I pulled out of my dive just above the roof of the school. Behind me, locked immobile in the morning sky was a giant globe pulsing with purple lightning. Every four or five seconds the globe pulsed, and the lightning flashed out again from the center of the sphere. I watched mesmerized for almost a minute.

I was brought out of my fugue when Velocity came out of the roof access door. "Icon, report, please." His voice was surprisingly calm. It helped.

"Uh … someone snuck a bomb into Winslow's auditorium. I managed to get it out and threw it into the sky before it blew. That's the result." I pointed to the giant snow globe filled with Force Lightning.

"Was anyone hurt?" he inquired.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I didn't see any injuries, but they were rushing those doors pretty hard. I wouldn't be surprised if there was some trampling."

"Let's get down there and see." He touched his earbud. "We'll need to get some flyers up there to examine that … whatever it is."

"Oh, and I'm sorry for that press announcement about Oni Lee," Velocity started as we walked down the stairs. He sounded embarrassed. "Something is really screwed up in the PR department."

"I'm ok. But they are kinda making the team and the PRT both look pretty bad."

"Yeah. It's like they're doing it on purpose. The Director can't deal with it right now, but after all this gets cleared up, she's going to go headhunting."

By lunch all Brockton Bay schools were released indefinitely.

Armsmaster and Dragon, with some help from Kid Win and Aegis, had determined the sphere was a time loop bubble repeating at a 4.4 second interval. Inside the purple lighting was determined to be some sort of neural disruptor.

Bakuda had designed a two-stage bomb. First was pain, unimaginable agony that thanks to the second stage would be experienced again and again as the time looped. It would have caught the entire auditorium and part of the school around it. It was unimaginably despicable.

By evening people around the city were calling the new, apparently permanent, feature in the Brockton Bay sky some variant of the new moon, the agony moon, the Bay moon, or just the bad moon rising.


	15. Chapter 15

2.9

Thursday evening Riley asked for a meeting at her house before I started my search. When I got there our diminutive host was present, along with her father and Dinah. I was surprised to find Nonie there as well.

"I suppose you're all wondering why I have asked you here this evening," Riley offered in a stentorian tone.

"I suppose you've been waiting all day to use that line," I returned. Dinah couldn't keep a straight face. Dr. Havisham just harrumphed and shook his head.

"Hey!" Riley complained. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Alright," I said. "The floor is yours."

"Right!" She said then pointed to two covered columns. "First the presents."

She grabbed the silk coverings and pulled, revealing two mannequins. One had a copy of Icon's costume, complete with cape and utility belt. The other was something very different. It had Dauntless' golden Greek armor and helm over a silver silk bodysuit. On its back was a cape made of dozens of dark gold and bronze vertical straps with metal glittering at the ends.

"I see mine, and thank you for that," I said. I turned to Nonie, "Is there something you wanted to tell us?"

"That's beautiful," she said, getting up to feel the material. It flashed and started crawling over her body, chasing her civilian clothes off of her. When it was done, the cape stretched out and suddenly she had two stylized wings fluttering behind her. The armor and boots shrank to fit her almost like a second skin. "Behold, Nike, the Winged Victory."

"So, you decided?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'll carry on Lee's legacy and give a nod to Dad too." Dr. Jones was a Classics professor.

"Good." I said.

"The enhanced spider silk is knife and bulletproof, fire resistant, non-conductive, and I've managed to incorporate a layer of kinetic resistant gel between the layers which should reduce blunt impact as well." Riley explained. Even with those improvements, the material was no thicker or heavier than the spandex my costume was created from.

We spent a few minutes looking at the costumes and complimenting Riley on the fantastic work. Dr. Havisham was beaming like the proud father he was. We took a short break while Riley, Dinah, and I changed.

When we reconvened, we looked like a bunch of superheroes, along with our token civilian scientist. We regarded each other in silence. "Now comes the less fun part, I'm guessing," I finally said.

Riley nodded. "You've been looking for Bakuda for almost a week. Even with Dinah's predictions you haven't been able to get her before she moves. You need more help."

"But the Protectorate and New Wave aren't interested in working with me."

"You're overlooking the obvious," the biotinker insisted. "I can do more than make costumes. I've had my powers since I was six years old. As it is wrong to tinker with people or most animals, I concentrated most of my work on insects. You've seen my spiders and the special silk I have them producing. What you haven't seen is the rider bugs that can plug into the nervous system of almost any insect or arachnid and put them under my cybernetic control. It also lets me see and hear through their senses. In addition, I have weaponized wasps and a hundred other specialized bugbots."

"It's not just me with things to offer. Nike, though she's new, can fly faster than you. If you let us work with you and Spinner, we can focus your search, extend your range, and significantly increase your sensor detail. But we would need to go into the field with you." Riley, who had her chiton helmet on the table, looked at me with candor and desire to help.

I turned to Dr. Havisham. "What are your thoughts on this?"

"As she said, she's had her powers for six years. I've managed to keep her from going out on her own, at least until recently" He shook his head. "She's thought this through. She's spent years preparing. And now she's found compatriots she trusts and who can offer her support as well as a bit more mature perspective. I'm not exactly happy about it, but this seems like the best situation for her that's likely to come around."

"What about the Wards?" Nonie asked. "I'm not real happy with the PRT at the moment, but that doesn't mean I've completely decided against them for myself."

"Biotinkers don't have the best reputation, between Nilbog, Lab Rat, and Blasto," the older man pointed out reasonably. "I doubt Weaver would be well received in Wards. I'd rather not put her thought the constant suspicion. She's been raised with carefully crafted ethics. She knows what she should and should not experiment on and is no danger to the world or those around her. But I doubt we'd be able to convince the professional paranoids in the PRT hierarchy of that."

The others at the table were all looking at me. I'm not quite sure how I had become the leader of this little cabal, but …

"Alright," I said. "Let's give this a try. Spinner, do you have our search target?"

"I do." She used her tablet to push the map image to the Havisham's wall mounted monitor. A section of the Trainyards was highlighted. I had to admit it looked a lot more professional than my old gas station map. "There is a 94% chance of her factory being in this area tonight."

"Oh! I have something else for everyone," Riley interrupted. She reached into a box and pulled out a high-tech headset. "First is this. It's a communicator/computer connection. It displays using a small hologram projected in front of your eye. This one is for Icon. It's DragonTech, with some modifications from Dad. Our helmets or masks have the same capabilities built in. You control it from a panel on your left bracer."

"And for everyone …" She typed something on her gauntlet and there was a subtle change on each of our shoulders. I looked closer. A simple stylized logo with mirrored B's in a shield had appeared in the weave of our costumes. "Tada!"

"Brockton Bay Guardians?" Nonie asked.

"Yeah," Dinah said. "I drew it out and Riley had her spiders weave it into all the costumes, hidden until electrified or something."

"Ok," I said, putting on the headset. It was mostly hidden in my short hair. It came on, showing the map image. I could see through it and as soon as I focused on something distant it disappeared. Cool! "Let's get out there. You can tell us how to use your bugs to find Bakuda on the way."

Weaver created a web hammock that I used to carry her and Spinner. Nike looked impressive as she flew, her wings animated with her power. They didn't quite sync, but I figured that would come with practice. She carried her brother's lance and shield, though the lance was sheathed on her back beneath her wings.

We landed on a roof in the center of the mapped-out area. Weaver released a swarm from her back shell. These were soon joined by a growing cloud of local insects. "I'm going to split the swarm," she informed Nike and me. "I'll keep a relay bug on each of you that will boost the signal from the mini-swarms. Spinner and I will stay here and direct you on comms."

"Ok. Let's do it," I said. "I'll take the north side, Nike can go south." The bugs spread out in front of us. In seconds I couldn't see them unless I really looked.

I moved more slowly than I had been, but the bugs were spread over several blocks, so I was covering more ground in more detail. Weaver kept me informed of what she was seeing from her little spies. Every hour or so we took a break. I did not want to overtax the others. Spinner seemed a bit bored. She kept wanting to use her powers to help guide the search. I wanted to keep her foresight in reserve. If we did find the ABB, we might need her ability then.

It was shortly after midnight that we hit pay dirt.

"I think I've found them," Weaver said. "Icon, can you find a perch right where you are? I want to take a closer look at the old Precision Timeworks building. It's almost out of range. I need you to get stay right there."

"Can do." I landed on a water tower on top of a tenement. I looked around for what Weaver was seeing. The shuttered clock factory was two blocks to the north, separated from nearby buildings by a rail line and a large parking lot. I focused in with my super-vision but was not able to see any signs of current use. I wished I had IR vision, maybe I could see if it was giving off an anomalous heat signature. So many powers, so little time.

"Ok," Weaver said, her voice showing some strain. "This is it. There are dozens of ABB in the building. They are actually making grenades in a makeshift assembly line. And … there is Bakuda!"

"Well done," I said. "Any sign of Lung?"

"Um … not that I can see. But there are a lot of closed spaces that my bugs can't get into, mostly in the warehouse. So they are probably sealed crates and such. Not a likely napping spot for the Dragon of Kyushu."

"No. He's in there," Spinner said. "Or he will be if we attack the place."

"Good to know," I said. "Everyone, gather on my position. No way we can do this on our own. I'm going to call in the cavalry."

An hour later we gathered on top of the old Reynold's Bank Building, not that there had been a bank in the building for a decade or more, and that was First New England. But the great red neon 'Reynold's Bank' sign was a landmark throughout the city. I don't think the Protectorate heroes, Wards, or PRT agents were happy about having to come all the way up, except for the fliers who might not mind. Still the Reynold's Building was the tallest in that section of town. From there it was easy to see the Precision Timeworks factory.

"Now that you have us all here," Armsmaster said. "What have you found out?"

There was a bit of a crowd. "We have located Bakuda, her bombs, and a significant number of ABB members." I nodded to Weaver. "My colleague, Weaver, here has the details."

She pulled a small projector out of her belt. With it she showed a floorplan of the factory. "My partner Spinner pulled this from the county records. This is what my bug found." Several icons appeared on the various parts of the map. "We've got twenty-one mooks in the old factory floor, making grenades. We've got another twenty-eight in the warehouse, which they have set up as a staging area of some sort, with weapon racks and other gear ready to be handed out. It looks like they are getting ready for a big offensive. We have some offices here set up as bedrooms, but I'm not seeing any activity. Finally, we have the basement, with entrances here and here. Bakuda is currently in the basement. She has it set up as her lab with lots of bombs and bits spread out all over … Oh cr … criminy!"

"What?" I asked, never having heard Riley come so close to cursing.

"She's saying that she should have a super-bomb ready in the next day or two. She's going to threaten the entire eastern seaboard. It must be a nuke, or worse."

"Are you sure?' Armsmaster cut in.

"She's talking to another cape," Weaver confirmed. "One I haven't seen before. She looks like she's made of glass."

"Any sign of Lung?" the Protectorate leader demanded.

"I'm still not seeing him anywhere. But if Spinner says he'll be there then we need to plan on that." Weaver's helmet manipulated her voice, making it deeper and slightly distorted. It added to the seriousness of her statement.

"Right," Armsmaster took over. "Our primary objective has to be the capture or destruction of that superbomb. Given how dangerous even an unfinished WMD may be, we need to lock it down completely before letting our tinkers examine it. Clockblocker, that will be your primary focus. Once you touch it, nothing should be able to set it off. Getting him there will be the job of the Wards, once we have cleared a path."

He pointed to the factory floor. "Team Alpha will consist of Miss Militia, Icon, and Nike. You will attack through the roof windows with a primary target of neutralizing or securing the munitions on the assembly line."

"The glass cape has moved to the factory floor," Weaver interrupted.

"Take her down as gently as possible. We have no background on this one, and no warrants." Armsmaster continued unphased. "Team Beta will be myself, Battery, and Assault. Our target is the warehouse. We will enter through the loading docks. Our mission is to secure the site and render the ABB members combat ineffective."

"Once the first floor is clear both teams will make a coordinated entrance into the basement from the two stairwells. Our objective it to capture or kill Bakuda and open a pth for the Wards to the superbomb. Wait for my order to enter. Weaver will coordinate communications and intelligence from …"

"The roof of the Canterbury Apartments is close enough and offers a good view of the factory while remaining safe from direct observation or attack," I suggested. It was the building I had observed from earlier.

He looked at me for a second then continued "… from the Canterbury roof. Spinner will stay with her and provide security. The Wards and the Strike Team will stage in the alley behind Metzner's Department Store, waiting in reserve. Once both team objectives have been met, the Strike Team will provide perimeter defense. Be particularly aware of runners. We want them all stopped."

"The Wards will enter the building through the loading docks and proceed to the two basement entrances in the warehouse and the factory floor. Hold until we signal, then proceed to the basement to secure the super-bomb."

"Any questions?" He looked at Weaver then me.

"And when Lung shows up?" I asked.

"You, Battery, and I will break off and engage Lung. Our objective is to incapacitate him before he escalates. If that is not possible, we will contain him or remove him from the building while the rest of the force concentrates on dealing with the bomb and Bakuda. Miss Militia will have tactical control. Remember Bakuda has a kill order on her. Our primary goal is to capture her alive for incarceration in the Birdcage, but if it is a choice between killing her or letting her escape, take the shot."

"Anything else?"

No one said anything.

"Good. You have six minutes to get into place. Wait for my go order." He nodded and headed for the edge of the roof.


	16. Chapter 16

2.10

Miss Militia had no objection to my carrying her to the roof. We came from above, out of the dark night sky. Though it was less dark now with the bad moon providing an uncanny illumination. When we landed, I noticed the Protectorate heroine lean over and whisper to Nike. My enhanced hearing picked up her one-word inquiry, "Nonie?"

Nike nodded her helmeted head once. Miss Militia squeezed her shoulder. Then we moved into position. Weaver had done something to patch the PRT comms though our team headsets. I thought for a second. I had two charges in reserve, the newest one that had popped after midnight and one that had popped during the bomb incident at Winslow yesterday. Again, I had not noticed it when it popped. I had been a bit busy. The question was how I could best use them. I decided that as there was a chance of facing Lung or of needing to deal with the super-bomb, I should save them.

Our first objective was taking down as many of the ABB as we could without getting caught by the more exotic grenades, or letting the gangbangers get caught and killed by their own weapons. There was also the unknown glass cape. Finally, I wanted to make sure Nike made it through this fight unharmed. This was a lot to tackle on her first day. I gave her a thumbs up. She returned it uncertainly.

I heard a quiet skittering I the background. I noticed a number of bugs gathering around the building. I guessed Weaver was not going to stay out of the fight, even if she was a block away. I found that strangely comforting.

"Time mark," Armsmaster broadcast. "Status check. All teams?"

"Alpha Check," reported Miss Militia

"Beta Check."

"Comms Check." Weaver sounded excited.

"Strike Check."

"Delta Check." That sounded like Aegis. I guess they weren't the Wards on comms.

"Execute!" Armsmaster ordered.

"Ladies, after you," Miss Militia gestured with her assault rifle. I grinned and punched the window out, taking part of the metal frame with it. I dived towards the assembly line, sweeping along it with my arm out. I was aiming to catch as many as I could in the shoulder, arm or chest. I wanted to avoid head or neck blows. I sent a half dozen or so gangsters sprawling.

Behind me I could hear a strange whip crack followed by screams. I spared a glanced over my shoulder to see Nike hovering over the second assembly line. The straps of her wings were shooting out, wrapping around individual gangsters, and slamming them into their compatriots. I wasn't expecting that, but it was certainly safer than risking accidentally detonating explosives with her arclance.

A gang member dodged away from Nike, grabbing for a machine pistol, only to be taken out by a beanbag round from above. Miss Sniper for the win.

Several ABB members were beginning to dance around, slapping at their arms and legs, ignoring the fight. Looking closely, I saw bugs crawling over them, likely biting and stinging. Weaver really was a force multiplier. And we would never have found the place without Spinner. They were valuable teammates.

A fist smashed into me, knocking me to the ground, and reminding me that I needed to pay attention to my own battle. I looked up to see a large woman apparently made of translucent green glass, a bit like an old-fashioned coke bottle. "You think you can come in and stop the ABB? Forget Oni Lee or Lung. You'll never make it past Papyeon."

"We don't have to do this. You're not wanted for anything yet. You can just walk away." I had no desire to fight her. I was picturing shattering her with a punch.

"You think I'm going to just abandon my people. Fuck you!" She whipped her hand, and a shower of glass shards shot towards me. I briefly wished I had Nike's shield, before I stood to take the attack. I wasn't sure who was behind me and couldn't risk others getting sliced up.

The glass slid off my new costume. I sent a silent paean of thanks to Weaver and her little eight-legged friends. I closed with the crystalline woman and tried a taser touch. Unfortunately, glass is a rotten conductor. The attack had no noticeable effect.

She tried another punch. This time I was braced and paying attention. I caught her hand and used it to spin her off her feet. I let her go, arcing her towards a group of three ABB members scrambling to avoid Nike. Papyeon sent them sprawling.

She got up. They didn't. I guessed she was tougher than she looked.

"Got any containment foam, Miss M?" I asked over the comm. "I still don't want to punch her."

A grenade shot down from the rafters, catching the glass cape in the back. Sticky foam quickly surrounded her, trapping her in a swiftly solidifying blob. As I tossed off a quick salute to the sky, I noticed a charge pop, filling up my reserve. Reward for teamwork? Bonus!

Before I could start on the next group of mooks, a roar split the din. Ruh-roh!

"Lung!" Armsmaster's voice came over the comms. "I repeat, we have Lung in the warehouse. He was in some kind of stasis in one of the crates. He is already at stage two and growing. Icon get in here. Miss Militia, take mission command."

I flew through the wall separating the rooms. Lung was over eight feet tall, with metal scales already covering his torso. Flames licked at his skin and his metal mask was glowing red. He was smashing at crates around him yelling, "Bakuda!"

I guess we knew what had stirred him up. The question was when, if she had him in some sort of time trap. I dropped a charge into my power nullifier and the other two more into my brute package, boosting my strength as I plowed into him from above, smashing him down while retarding his growth and regen.

That was when the concrete collapsed beneath us, dropping us into Bakuda's basement lab. Oops.

I continued to pound on the dragon, pressing my temporary advantage. My power-punch allowed me to ignore much of his armor while my own costume and defenses offered significant protection from his claws and flames. For the moment I had the advantage.

Another charge popped. I dropped it into my reaction speed.

Armsmaster and Battery had joined me in the basement. They were making hit and run attacks on Lung while I kept his attention.

"No! you can't do this here," Bakuda shouted from her workbench. She reached for grenade launcher and pointed it towards us. Armsmaster shot a dart at her as I shot an arcblast. I managed to knock the gun out of her hand. I did not see what happened to the dart.

Lung took advantage of the distraction to slam Battery into her armored leader. She bounced. He took a little longer to recover.

Over the comms I heard Miss Militia calling in reserves and bringing the teams closer. I hoped they would get here to take care of Bakuda and the bombs.

I dodged Lung's follow up swipe, diving down and grabbing his foot. It was an unexpected move and the surprise slowed him enough that I got a good grip on his ankle and calf. As he pounded on my back I started flying up, dragging him back through the hole in the concrete, then up through the warehouse roof.

He struggled to free himself, kicking with his free foot and throwing a fireball right in my face. That hurt. And no help from the new costume. Another charge popped and automatically dropped into my damage resistance.

He did an upside-down crunch and grabbed my two hands with his, wrenching my grip free of his leg. I grabbed his wrist, pulled his hands off me, and did a mid-air flip. Using that momentum, I flung him with all my strength down towards the hard concrete of the parking lot hundreds of feet below. I knew he could survive the impact, but I hoped to knock him out.

He slammed into the ground, cracking the concrete for a dozen yards in every direction. I dived after him to reduce his opportunity to recover. He was getting bigger. I pounded into him. I noticed swarms of wasps trying to sting him, only to be burned up as his flaming aura flared.

"Icon!" I heard Spinner call over the comms.

"Stay back!" I ordered.

Lung surged up, backhanding me to gain room. I stepped close and pounded him with power punch after power punch. Pushing my power negation with each blow. Another charge popped and dropped, this time into power negation.

Lung flared his flames. They surrounded me. I could smell my hair burning away on my head. The stench was sickening. Not to mention the pain. Another charge popped and dropped into regen.

I just kept pounding him, as fast as I could. I was faster than him. It was a toss up who was stronger, though he was still growing. I think we were more or less at a standstill, but I did not know how long that would last.

Several strands of webbing spun down from the direction of the apartments. I cursed. Not because they burned before they touched the half-dragon, but because it meant Weaver or Spinner was getting closer.

Suddenly a silver figure waded into the fires surrounding me. It was Sentinel. He ignored the flames and claws as he grabbed Lung around the neck, putting him into some sort of sleeper hold. I continued to pound into the metal-covered torso while the mysterious man slowly choked the dragon out.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually Lung started shrinking. Three minutes later he was down and unconscious. Three more charges popped during that time. I held them in reserve.

"PRT agents on the way with restraints and containment foam." Weaver informed me over the comms. "Once he's secured you need to get back to the basement lab."

"Copy that," I replied. Less than a minute later Lung was blobbed.

"You coming?" I asked Sentinel as I took off towards the loading dock. He raced after me silently, easily keeping pace.

I dropped through the hole in the floor, finding Bakuda down and several people crowded around what I took to be the big bomb. "What's going on?" I asked Nike.

"Clockblocker has it frozen, but somehow it is fighting the stasis."

Sentinel moved to the device. Everyone but Armsmaster and Clockblocker stepped back. The faceless silver figure looked around, examining the bomb and the Ward touching it. Then he bent down and dug his fingers in to the concrete floor. He stood, wrenching a six-foot section of the floor from the concrete bed. This included the frozen bomb. Clockblocker rolled away.

Armsmaster started to protest. Sentinel ignored him and leapt, following my earlier trajectory. He soared through the hole and the roof above it, out into the night sky. Nike, Aegis, and I took off after him. Both of the others, Nike in particular, were faster fliers than me and quickly left me behind.

It appeared that Sentinel was repeating my feat from the previous afternoon. He landed on top of the Reynolds Bank building. From that vantage he threw the bomb with tremendous strength, far greater than I could muster. It soared into the night. I tracked it as well as I could. But it wasn't enough. It disappeared somewhere above the clouds. I was later told Dragon and the Air Force both tracked it flying out of the atmosphere before they lost it.

Sentinel was gone by the time I returned to the Reynolds Bank building.

Nike followed me to the roof of the Canterbury. Weaver and Spinner were both OK.

"Armsmaster, the bomb is gone. What's the status of the rest of the operation?" I asked over the comms.

"The glass cape, Lung, and Bakuda are in custody. The factory and laboratory are secured. I'm going to call this a success. All that's left is the debrief."

"Can I recommend that we do that in the morning? Maybe late morning? We can come into the PRT or the Rig, your choice?"

He paused for a short while the replied. "Yes, that would work. Can you come to the PRT at 10 a.m.?"

I looked at the others. They nodded. "Yes. That's fine with us."

"Thank you for your invaluable assistance. We'll talk with you then. We have a lot to talk about."

That last bit wasn't ominous at all.


	17. Chapter 17

2.11

We all met in a park two blocks from the PRT building. I was surprised to see that 'all' included the tall silvery figure of Sentinel escorting Weaver and Spinner. They had leapt from the top of a nearby building. It was cool to see the legs of Spinner costume telescope and retract when she jumped. Not all of Spinner's abilities were based on Dinah's bio-enhancements. Some were built into the costume, just as some of Weaver's were. I smiled at the Guardians logo seemingly etched into the faceless man's shoulder. Looking between him and Weaver, I had a serious suspicion as to his civilian identity. I almost asked, but decided it wasn't necessary. He'd certainly proved helpful that morning. I wasn't going to turn him away.

Nike was the last to arrive. I think she was still getting used to flying. Her landing was a little rough. Gear seemed to have a steeper learning curve than innate powers. And she was still consciously animating her wings, which likely took a portion of her concentration. It was a reminder that if we were going to work together as a team, we needed training, both individually and as a unit.

"Shall we?" I gestured towards the building visible beyond the trees.

"You realize there are reporters outside the entrance," Nike said. "After last night's battle, local news is going crazy. I even noticed some national outlets when I flew over."

"Am I correct that we're going to tell the PRT we are not interested in joining, but we will be working together as the Brockton Bay Guardians?" I asked, looking at each of the others.

They nodded, even Sentinel.

"Then that's what we'll tell the press if they ask," I replied. "I wish we had a little more time to put some things in place, like a headquarters, or at least a phone number. But we can wing it."

"I thought that was her job." Weaver pointed a spare arm at Nike.

"Boo," Spinner jeered. "No puns, please."

Sentinel nodded silently while Nike ruffled her straps.

"At least not in front of the press," I said.

"Though it might actually be a good thing," Nike argued. "Make Weaver seem a bit less intimidating."

"I kinda want to be intimidating." Her voice deepened and became scratchier, almost inhuman. This, along with the extra height and bulk her costume added, the spider arms, faceless helmet, and her hunched posture made her more than a little frightening. Her suit was almost a biological mecha.

"I don't think that is going to be a problem," I assured her. "Just save some for the bad guys."

"This might make kids less scared," Spinner said as she leapt on top of Weaver and rode on her shoulder. "Forward Tantor!"

Weaver surged forward. I facepalmed. Nike put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me after them.

Quite the crowd was accompanying us by the time we got to the PRT building. We were waving and smiling, though mine was the only face that could be seen clearly. Spinner was tossing little plastic spider rings to kids along the way. It looked like someone had hit the dollar store. Still it got the kids excited, or more excited.

Reporters started yelling questions as we approached the entrance. But I could see that we were almost late. I decided the press announcements could wait.

"Sorry, we have an appointment," I said. "We'll be happy to talk with you on the way out."

For some reason that did not seem to satisfy them.

We continued inside, waving. Several PRT agents meet us in the foyer. They led us to a meeting room on the fourth floor. Director Piggott, who I'd seen at the big briefing almost a week ago was seated in the center of the long table with Armsmaster and Miss Militia on her left and Deputy Director Renick and another man I'd not met before on her right.

I nodded and my team spread out to either side of me, Spinner and Nike to my right and Weaver and Sentinel to my left. We sat down together, though Weaver just moved the chair back and sort of hunkered down on her extra limbs. Her head was level with mine and her real arms were folded on the table.

"Thank you for coming," Director Piggott began. "I asked you here to not only debrief from this morning's actions, but to discuss a number of other issues regarding you individually, and as I now see, collectively as well."

"I think I speak for us all," I started, glancing at the others who only nodded, "when I say we are grateful for your working with us to stop the ABB bombing threat and we are happy to address what issues we can. But first I think introductions may be in order. I am Icon. To my right are Spinner and Nike. On my other side are Weaver and Sentinel." I gave another glance at him. He had never introduced himself, so I was not sure he was happy with that name, but he gave no sign otherwise. "We are now working together as the Brockton Bay Guardians."

Ohh … that didn't go over well. The Director looked like someone had farted in her general direction. Armsmaster's lips thinned. The others looked generically disturbed or disappointed.

"I am PRT East-North- East Director Piggott. With me are Armsmaster and Miss Militia, Deputy Director Renick and our strategic consultant Thomas Calvert." She paused for a moment, drumming her fingers lightly on the edge of the table.

Finally, she continued. "Let's start with last night and this morning. How did you find the location of Bakuda and Lung?"

"As I had reported to Deputy Director Renick several days ago, I have access to a Thinker who provided me with a limited area within which we were certain Bakuda was hiding. This location changed over time, but we were able to eventually find her." I explained.

"Who is your Thinker?" Mr. Calvert asked. The Director looked at him then turned back to me.

"I would prefer not identify the individual for safety reasons." I smiled as a replied. We wanted to separate Dinah Alcott, kid psychic, from Spinner in people's eyes. If they thought we had more people behind us, all the better. "But the information proved accurate. I found Oni Lee at a previously identified location of the bomb factory, only to find it had moved. But his presence was confirmation of the connection."

Director Piggott looked upset for a moment. "About that. One of our PR staff released an inaccurate press statement that underemphasized your role in Oni Lee's arrest. For that I apologize. That was an oversight. We are implementing new procedures to prevent more such oversights in the future." She looked at Nike for a moment then nodded.

"No harm done," I said, waving it away. "I'm not in this for the publicity. I want to help people. Stopping that murderer helped keep people safe. Even boosting the PRT's media profile could be called helping." I smiled.

"Yes, well," she said.

"Why didn't you report the new lead," Renick asked. "After Oni Lee's arrest it was, as you point out, confirmation of the accuracy of your intelligence."

"I told you twice," I answered calmly. I wasn't accusing him, but I also wasn't going to let him blame me for not coming back a third time. "I decided to wait until I had something more concrete, like eyes on the target. Which happened last night. As soon as we had confirmed the target's location, I called it in."

"But we might have been able to find her sooner if …" he countered.

"If you had taken me seriously earlier?" I asked. "My Thinker was no less accurate before we found Oni Lee. Nor more so afterwards."

"Yes," the Director said. "We'll keep that in mind moving forward."

"When we arrived," Armsmaster began, "You provided us with detailed real-time information on the disposition of the ABB within the building. Did this come from the same Thinker?"

"No," I said. "We have a very smart group, with more than one Thinker. The tactical intelligence," I had been studying the lingo to sound more professional. "came from Weaver."

"As I said this morning," Her voice obviously disturbed the PRT personnel that had not heard it before. "I am able to receive sensory input from my insects in a wide range."

"But you were not able to pinpoint Lung?" Miss Militia asked.

"He was in a sealed crate in some sort of stasis. I could not sense him."

"Do we know anything about why he was in that stasis crate?" I asked. "He seemed like he had been stopped in mid-rage somehow."

"The results of our initial interrogations have indicated that soon after Lung was rescued from the transport, he and Bakuda had an altercation," Armsmaster offered. "We don't know the cause of the disagreement. As Lung began his transformation, Bakuda managed to place him in a time-locked state. It appears she released him as a distraction during the attack on her factory."

"Some distraction," Nike said.

"So, you think Bakuda was effectively in charge of the ABB, even after Lung's return?" I asked. That was an odd thought. Who was the scariest ABB leader – the rage dragon or the mad bomber? I though Lung was actually the more reasonable, which was scary in and of itself.

"That is from our initial interrogations," Director Piggott stated. "We still have a great deal of investigation to do. You five were working together last night?"

"Not exactly," I replied. "Weaver and Spinner had partnered earlier but agreed to help me in my search. Nike was on her first night in costume and agreed to act as back up for us. Sentinel is his own man, but his assistance was essential. Since then, we've agreed to make this partnership official and will be pulling together team resources to make us more effective. We have a few support personnel as well, who wish to remain anonymous."

"Let's take this in more detail," Armsmaster requested. "From when you first spotted Bakuda ..."

With my eidetic memory I was able to offer a detailed timeline. When he did not stop me when I got to the point he and his team had arrived, I continued through the battle until the disposal of the superbomb. He asked each of the others to add their recollections and perspectives.

"And now Sentinel." Mr. Calvert prompted. All eyes turned to the silvery figure. He looked at the consultant then motioned to his featureless face, pointing out his lack of a mouth it looked like.

"I do not think he speaks," Weaver said. "Whether this is choice or inability, I cannot say."

Sentinel pointed to Weaver and nodded.

"I see," replied Calvert. I wasn't sure who this fellow was, but I don't think I liked his attitude.

All the PRT side of the table asked questions about our actions, decisions, and observations. It was a professional debrief, grueling, but professional.

Over time the discussion became more general again. Eventually the question I had been expecting came up.

"Why form your own team?" Miss Militia asked. "You would all be welcome in the Protectorate, or the Wards, whichever is more appropriate. We can provide support and resources on a scale no small group of individuals can match. As well as offering the advantages of government sponsorship, official authority, and a place in the largest organization dedicated to protecting the people of this great nation from parahuman threats."

"I think it's the size of the PRT and its teams that's the biggest reason," I said after thinking for several seconds. "Your focus is long range. Your priorities are large and tied to national or even global needs. I think that sometimes this means you cannot, for very good reasons I'm sure, deal directly with the crime and violence rampant on the streets of Brockton Bay. You're the FBI. We want to be the neighborhood watch. We are smaller and will deal with smaller problems. But those problems, small as they are, are real to the people of the Bay. I think we can help them without drawing on the might of the US government. And where we can't, like last night, we can call in the cavalry."

"What she said," Spinner echoed.

"That doesn't mean we won't assist if you need us," Nike added. "We'll answer the call. But in the meantime, we'll try to help people in our own way."

This led to serval seconds of heavy silence, eventually broken by Director Piggott.

"We would ask that you register, both individually and as a team," she said, her voice unhappy but resigned. "Icon is already registered, but the rest of you are not."

"While Deputy Director Renick assists the rest with the registration paperwork," she continued. "I would ask that Nike stay a moment. There are a few issues we need to address with you."

"I suspect I know what those are," Nike replied. She looked over Spinner at me. "I would ask that the others stay for the discussion."

"This deals with your secret identity." Miss Militia objected.

"I suspected as much," Nike smiled. "And given that, I would ask that the Deputy Director and Mr. Calvert leave the room."

"If you're certain?" Director Piggott prodded.

"I am."

"Very well," The Director turned to her companions. "Gentlemen, If you please." Calvert did not look happy.

After a few minutes, while we refilled our classes from a pitcher on the sideboard, we settled in for the next stage of the conversation.

"Am I correct that your armor and weapons belonged to Dauntless?" the Director asked directly.

"He was my brother. I don't think anyone has more right to his legacy than I do." Nike pulled the arclance from her back and set it on the table. It stopped sparking when she released it. "If anyone else can get that to work, I'll consider discussing them using it."

Armsmaster reached out and picked up the weapon. Nothing happened. He ran a sensor over it then slipped off his armored gauntlet and held the lance in his bare hand. Still nothing. He offered it to Miss Militia. She shook her head in refusal.

"I don't think who can use the weapons is the issue," the Director said. "They are government property. You have no right to them. And, as they are the basis of your power," she paused dramatically before continuing. "Now, if you were a member of the Protectorate …"

"You had to go there," Nike shook her head sadly. She touched the table, which flashed, the PRT- side's legs extended, tilting the table towards us. The lance slid back to her hand, flashed, then started to crawl around her like an inchworm. It inched up her arm and over her shoulder, sliding into the sheath on her back. "I wear the armor to honor my brother. I have my own powers."

"I think it's time for us to go," I said. "Thank you for the invitation. I look forward to cooperating with you again in the future." I stood and the team stood beside me.

"Thank you for your help," Miss Militia said. "I'm sure we'll work together again."

I smiled to her, nodded at the others, then left the room. The Deputy Director had the necessary paperwork ready for us and we took a half hour to fill it all out. Sentinel typed his answers into a computer and signed the printed form.

Once we left the building, we faced our biggest challenge yet, the ravening media.


	18. Chapter 18

2.X Interlude 2

Coil, for he always thought of himself as such - Thomas Calvert was just a costume he wore to fool the sheep - was not pleased that his toy had once more slipped his grasp. That Dinah Alcott had now aligned herself with this newest hero team was problematic. He had used a disposable timeline to confirm that was indeed her behind the Spinner costume. He used the simple expedient of reaching across the table and pulling off her mask. The speed with which the others Guardians had reacted to his act was frightening. The Protectorate had been moving to stop him as well. Even dear old Emily had grabbed his jacket before he had dropped the timeline.

He tried to use the same trick to unmask the others, only to find Weaver and Nike's helmets did not slip off as easily and neither Icon nor Sentinel were wearing masks.

Icon was becoming quite the thorn in his side. She had thrice interfered with his acquisition of the precog. She had ended the ABB threat before he could coax it to heights great enough for him to successfully gather the villains of Brockton Bay under his command to counter them. Finally she had coopted the sister of Dauntless who he had been planning to collect into his fold.

His agents in the PRT PR department had started the effort to drive a wedge of resentment between Ms. Jones and the heroes. This had been the first step in a plan to convince her to eventually turn over her brother's enhanced gear to him for study. He had confirmed with Tattletale the likelihood that Miss Jones had the goods after the explosion. By Icon's recruiting her into this new group, that was not likely to happen now.

He needed to find out more about Icon. He had tried using facial recognition software to match her face against all the faces on the internet. The closest he came was a model named Arizona Muse. That was frustrating, but he chalked it up to power bullshit. She obviously had some sort of Changer ability so she was not presenting her real face. Her interactions with Miss Jones and Dear Dinah suggested she was known to one or both in her civilian identity. But there was no proof. He could only find two common acquaintances between the two females, a classmate of Dear Dinah's and the classmate's father, a biophysicist for Medhall. He would have to see about suborning him in the near future. Even if there was no connection to Icon, it would be good to have another agent inside the pharmaceutical giant.

Not even Tattletale could tell him more about Icon's identity, after observing the pestilential hero as she patrolled the Boardwalk. He vaguely wondered if she had a Stranger power which might somehow effect Thinkers, then discarded the idea as too foolish to pursue.

Still, he decided, some good might yet come out of this mess. Firstly with all the ABB capes in custody, that left a power vacuum he could exploit. Perhaps he could find new leadership for the masterless mob. Leadership that would be under his control. Or perhaps he could use the certain chaos that the other gangs fighting to take the territory would produce to maneuver elsewhere, all the time making Piggott and the PRT look worse, leading to her eventual replacement.

Another bright spot was that, despite the kill order, Bakuda was captured alive. This meant that she would be sent to the Birdcage. He would ensure that she never made it. Such a genius would be far too useful under his control. Either the Undersiders or the Travelers would take her from the transport. The other could be used to create distraction by enticing the Guardians into battle. He was interested in testing their abilities before moving further against them. Which team did what would be determined by who was escorting the transport. Bakuda was the primary mission and the snatch team would have to be able to take out any opposition.

He split the timeline. In one he logged into the PRT system to gather information on the transport. In the other he had a lovely early dinner at Regiano's.

#####

"What do you think? Have we lost them?" Emily Piggott asked the two team leaders. They were back in her office following the unfortunate ending of the debriefing with the Guardians. Armsmaster and Miss Militia had accompanied her at her request. She wanted their thoughts and impressions. Collin was pretty much useless with people, but he knew this and had developed technology to get around that fact. This gave him an occasionally useful perspective. Hannah was the most socially ept of the three of them. She also had her memory to call upon to review details. This made her handy in such situations as well.

"I think we might say we've lost them for now," Hannah replied. "That does not mean that at some time in the future, after they have blunted their youthful enthusiasm on the realities of heroing in Brockton Bay, they will not be more open to a repeat of our offer."

"I agree," Collin added. "My system tells me that Icon skated close to untruth a couple of times, mostly when talking about the identity of her precog, but that she was basically honest with us. I got almost nothing off of Sentinel on my social systems, and only a bit more off of Weaver. Dauntless' helmet still confuses the facial reading algorithms. I have not yet cracked that problem. But otherwise Nike is easy to read."

"So we need to look at them, individually and as a group, as potential problems," Piggott said. "How dangerous are they? And how might we take them down if we need to?" She looked at the team's main tactician.

"I've asked the classification think-tank to look at them based on their actions against the ABB and any other footage or reports we have," Armsmaster began.

"We have the most on Icon. She is getting stronger and faster with each incident. It seems to confirm her claim that she grows her powers like Dauntless did. She is officially a Trump 8 or better. But she presents as a Brute 5, Mover 4, Thinker 3, Blaster 2, and who knows what else."

"That's up from two weeks ago," Piggott pointed out.

"Exactly. And may be up again next week."

Piggott frowned. Dauntless' growth was worrying. This woman's was frightening. "What about the others?"

"Sentinel is the one with the next most record. The thinkers set him as a Brute 8 or better with Mover 4 added. He tossed that bomb into orbit or higher. That is Alexandria level strength, or near it."

"How did he move the bomb if it was frozen by Clockblocker? I thought nothing known could overcome his power." Hannah asked.

"We think the most likely is that some temporal manipulation tech in the bomb caused Clockblocker's freeze to release more quickly than expected. It has always been a variable power in terms of duration. Sentinel simply grabbed the bomb right after it had become unfrozen."

Colin continued down the list. "Weaver, earlier reported as Swarm we believe, unless that was Spinner or another bug master, is initially set at Master 5, Thinker 2, Brute 2-4. They added a Shaker 2 for her webs, but that is very preliminary. We saw almost nothing of Spinner, but they are extrapolating a Brute 1-2, Mover 1-2, and Shaker 2, again for the webs."

"And Nike?' Piggott asked. Seeing that metal lance squirm over her body had been more disturbing than the Case 53 spider cape.

"Given the last known spec for Dauntless' gear, plus recorded observations from this morning's battle she is being listed as a Shaker 3, Mover 3, Blaster 2. Her ability to animate and enhance objects gives her a Striker 4 at least and her armor gives her at least Brute 1, maybe more."

"So we have a group of versatile, in some cases powerful, individuals outside of our control. I want a plan to take them out with Protectorate and Ward resources by tomorrow EOB. Include a plan to integrate them into Endbringer defense efforts. " Piggott slapped her table. They had to be prepared to deal with whatever came.

#####

"Thanks for meeting with me," Danny said. "It is really helpful to have someone in a similar situation to talk with about this stuff." He took a moment to look around the Havisham home. When Taylor had let slip that Dr. Havisham was also aware of her identity, and those of the other capes in her group, he quickly arranged this meeting.

"We're both fathers with daughters who seem to share a dangerous destiny." Dr. Havisham was soft spoken and obviously intelligent in the same was Anne was.

"I don't know about destiny, but they've made choices I am not completely comfortable with, but need to support all the same."

"I concur. Even though Riley is younger than Taylor, she has had her powers much longer. I don't think it would be right to forbid her from her new path. Nor do I think she would listen if I tried."

"Exactly." Danny took another sip of coffee. "The question becomes how we can best support them. I think they were more shocked than anything when the PRT gave them that reward check. I know Taylor has never had anything like that kind of money and had no idea how to manage it."

"Riley has some … inheritance money from her family." Havisham seemed reluctant to talk about the topic. "She says she wants to put some towards supporting the team. The reward money could also go towards that end."

"Taylor and Nonie have been talking about a base." Danny grinned. "They said something about digging a secret underground tunnel between the Jones' place and ours. I can see the need for a headquarters, but I think we want to provide them with better options."

"Indeed. Have you something in mind?"

"Maybe. There are a several abandoned warehouses and office buildings near the docks that could be purchased for almost nothing and converted to something useful relatively cheaply. I could get some of my workers to provide labor. I might even be able to provide some non-cape staff, something they will likely need and may not have thought of."

"That seems reasonable. Might I suggest you put together a proposal on base options and we can present it to the girls? I would be able to match the $57,000 from the reward, so that gives us a budget to work within. We need to take long term operating costs into account. They should probably consider setting up a non-profit organization. They will need to consider some sort of ongoing revenue stream. Rewards may be a part of it, as well as donations. Possibly licensing biotech and their images as well. I have a few attorneys I might recommend for contracts and licensing. I can put something together to present."

"You agree the final decision has to be theirs?" Danny confirmed.

"While that may not be the case legally," Dr. Havisham replied, "it is ethically correct. Given her powers, I have always stressed ethical behavior to Riley. It would be foolish for me to change now."

The discussion continued for hours.

A/N: I think this story is going on Hiatus for a while. I have reached a stopping point with the defeat of the ABB and the formation of the Guardians. I have the next arc plotted, but I feel the call of a different story. I think I will work on that for a while and come back to this one at a later date.


End file.
